


Certain as the Sun

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Uliro Week [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Anachronistic, M/M, Storytelling, Uliro Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-08 14:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11083449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Shiro comes down with a nasty cold, so Pidge and Matt tell him a bedtime story.  A very familiar one, in fact.After all, it's a tale as old as time.





	1. Chapter 1

_ “Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom there lived a man in a castle.” _

_ “A prince?” _

_ “Nah, not a prince.  More of a duke, or whatever.  Marquis?  I’m not sure.  Either way, it wasn’t an inherited position.  This man was given the castle and the land to care for after he came back from the war.” _

_ “What war?” _

_ “Well, the war against the Galra, obviously.” _

_ “Does this not take place on Earth?” _

_ “...Yeeees.  It does.  Clearly.  Anyway.  So this man fought this war so damn hard and so freakin’ good that the princess was like ‘hey, this castle has been empty, and it’s on the border.  Keep an eye on it?  You were a commander of a special task force, you can probably manage keeping track of a castle and a border.  It can’t be that hard, after fighting a war.’” _

_ “Oh, let me guess.  The man sucked at it.  Majorly.  Absolute human disaster.” _

_ “Correct!” _

_ “You two are the worst.” _

_ “Shh, who’s telling this story?  Not Sicky McSickperson over here.  Anyway, he sucked at it.  He tried to do the whole thing himself without telling anybody, and it all blew up in his face because one guy can’t single handedly run the lands like that.  Plus, all that wartime PTSD.” _

_ “What kind of fairytale has PTSD?” _

_ “The kind I’m telling, not you!  Now pipe down and enjoy.  This is exactly the kind of thing that got the not-prince in trouble, alright?  Shut up and let me do the talking.” _

_ “That’s a sentence that always ends well.” _

_ “You shush too.  So he had PTSD, and certain things set him off.  Understandably.  But, really, he was just putting a bunch of stress on himself.  So the Princess he had served under and her royal advisor came, along with some friends, and they were helping him staff the castle and figure out how to actually do this without it all blowing up under them.  There’s no reason he couldn’t so long as he learned to freakin’ delegate for once.” _

_ “And that was the night the witch decided to show up.  Probably not a coincidence, since this witch also happened to be an advisor to the recently defeated Galra king.  And she was just a major bitch.” _

_ “Right.  So she disguises herself as a human - and a bootylicious one at that.” _

_ “I thought she was supposed to be ugly?” _

_ “Again!  Again with the interruptions!  This isn’t your story.” _

_ “Considering you wrote me in as the Beast, you jackass-” _

_ “You’re not the storyteller.  You’re the tellee. So, as I was saying, she was fine as hell.  So she comes up swinging her hips and fluttering her lashes and she’s like ‘won’t you let me in?  I can repay you.’  And it was just all kinds of seductive.” _

_ “He turns her away, right?  You’re not-” _

_ “No, god no.  Ew.  For one, the Princess is NOT in another castle.  She’s in this one, and she’s waiting for him to come back so they can talk about, like, grain storage or some old-fashioned shit.  For another, the witch is getting all in the war hero’s face and touching, especially on the not-so-human arm, and knowingly just pushing all kinds of bad touch buttons.  Then she tries to wrap her arms around his neck.” _

_ “Bad idea.” _

_ “Well, she was aware it was.  The witch knew exactly what she was doing, since she was the one to take his arm in the first place.  Anyway, he reacts and shoves her off, and his magic arm turns on in a way that’s super threatening.” _

_ “Then the witch plays at taking offense.  ‘I reached out to you and showed you affection, and you returned it with violence and hatred.  Now, you will resemble what you have shown you are.’  And she curses him.  Along with everyone else in the castle.” _

_ “Including the Princess?” _

_ “Yup.  And because technically she could claim that Shiro had - er, I mean, the war hero had attacked her without cause, the magic kept, even if the Princess was crazy powerful herself.  The curse will not be broken until the hero could find someone who could love him as he was.  But even putting aside the whole ‘giant monster’ thing, dude had some self-image problems, and he immediately decided it wasn’t going to happen.” _

_ “What does the Princess turn into?” _

_ “Jeez, why don’t I tell you how it ends, while I’m at it?” _

_ “But I know how it ends.” _

_ “Not yet, you don’t.  Isn’t it already different?  I’m hardly predictable, you know.” _

_ “He’s really not.  Nothing is guaranteed.” _

_ “Alright, fine.  ...Who’s Belle?” _

_ “I’m glad you asked, Starshine.” _

***

Ulaz walked down-

***

_ “Of course he is.” _

_ “You’re the one into him.  You want me to pick Keith?  Lance?   I can work with that.  Actually, Keith works, because-” _

_ “Just stick to Ulaz.” _

***

Ulaz walked down the winding path to the settlement.  It was the hardly the best or busiest of the places they’d stayed.  It was insular, in the way only small towns managed to be, especially the kind that rarely saw outside visitors.

It was the place they’d been asked to lay low, after their part in taking down Zarkon.  His actions against the Galra and subsequent fleeing had left him drained and nearly dead, which was part of why Kolivan had ordered him to lay low here and keep an eye on the border.

Except this was, bar none, the most boring assignment that Ulaz had ever been given.

_ Watch this tiny village and hope no one marches on the human country. _  Sure, there were rumors of some political maneuvering just over the border, but Ulaz really doubted that was what Kolivan cared about.  At first, Ulaz had tracked the rumors out of sheer curiosity.  There wasn’t a lot of news crossover between this town and anyone in the other country, considering that they still weren’t at peace.  But travellers came through, human, Galra or otherwise, and Ulaz occasionally heard stories.

There was a new ruler, almost immediately overwhelmed by the duties.  Then no word at all.  No orders, no supplies, no taxes.  The area might as well have been in anarchy for the month.

Then the news broke that the Princess had disappeared.  The King of Altea was heartbroken, reportedly.

“Which makes your duty all the more important,” Ulaz reminded himself.  If the words came out slightly mocking, well, no one was around to hear it.

So he stayed, and he waited, and he assumed Kolivan had some use for himself and Antok here other than ‘stay out of trouble.’

It didn’t seem likely.

The little town was just waking up with the rising of the sun.  Already, the marketplace was starting to bustle - or as close to bustling as the town got.  A dozen or so Galra milled, looking for cuts of meat for later, or supplies for keeping up with their homes.

Ulaz ignored it all with practiced ease, weaving through the crowds.  He’d given up on trying to blend in.  He would never be a part of the town at this rate.  Antok and he were both outsiders.  Curiosities, at times, certainly.  But they rarely socialized or made an attempt to be neighborly.  It wasn’t particularly their way, even among the relatively secluded nature of Galra.

Besides, the more they opened up, the greater a chance someone would realize their loyalties.  It wasn’t worth it.

Ignoring the noisy bustle of the townsfolk as best he could, Ulaz pushed his way into the library.

The librarian looked up at the sound of the door opening, and he shot Ulaz a vague smile before going back to shelving his meager supplies.  “Back again?”

“I finished,” Ulaz replied.  

Pausing, the librarian glanced over.  “You took three books just two days ago.”

In a town like this, that kind of appetite for reading was unusual.  It spoke of a higher education than most of the people in this area would ever get.

Ulaz had tried to hide it at first, but... well, they were already outsiders, and well spoken, and just plain strange.  Why bother hiding this?  The library and it’s tomes were one of the few parts of this town that made their boring stay tolerable.  

“I have little else to do, this time of year,” Ulaz replied.  He moved to the desk so the librarian could mark the return, then went ahead and reshelved them by hand.  It was something to do, and he had the few shelves memorized anyway.

That made the librarian laugh, at least.  “Oh, I imagine so.  Winters can’t be your strong suit, can they?”

Ulaz reached up and pushed his single tuft of longer fur out of his eyes.  The rest of it was short and velvet-like, which didn’t make it very insulating.  “No, they are not.  I prefer warmer months.”

“Maybe you need a long-furred companion, then,” the librarian called, voice sly.  “I’ve heard rumors, you know.”

Oh, boy.

Ulaz winced as he finished putting away the last of the books.  “Yes, well, if I stay inside, I can manage without issue.  Your books help with that.”

Chuckling, the librarian didn’t reply.  Instead he waited at his desk while Ulaz perused, and finally returned with just one book.

Peering through his eyepiece, the librarian huffed.  “Again?”

The history of Galra warfare (latest addition) sat on the table.  It said nothing that the Galra Empire either didn’t want known or couldn’t keep from being public knowledge, but it was still the best resource in the entire library.  At least it wasn’t about flower pressing or animal husbandry.

“It’s exciting,” Ulaz replied.

Shaking his head, the librarian huffed. “If you say so.  Very dry read, if you ask me.  But go on, enjoy.  Don’t worry about bringing it back this week.  No one else here reads it.”

Ulaz refrained from pointing out no one else here seemed to read much at all.  “Thank you, it’s appreciated.”

“No trouble at all.  Enjoy your book. I hope reading of battles helps keep your blood pumping warm.”

Ulaz smiled back, thin but real.  “I hope so too.”  Using his shoulder, he pushed the door open and made his way down the road, already cracking open the book.

***

“There he is again,” Sendak murmured, eyes narrowed as he watched Ulaz wander through the town.  “What’s that he’s reading?”

Peering through his eyepiece, Haxus sighed.  It was a familiar order. He obeyed it every time that Sendak saw Ulaz with a book, which was near every encounter.  “A history tome.”

“Of what?”

“Military history.”

There was a dark silence at that, and Haxus glanced at Sendak.  He watched Ulaz through narrowed eyes, one bright gold, the other a red prosthetic.  It was certainly intimidating, and it highlighted Sendak’s place as a local war hero, retired after he was captured and then escaped.

Retirement hadn’t settled well with Sendak.  Honestly, Haxus thought that killing him as was typical would have been better.  But Sendak had never fully lost in a way that could justify his death, and so he was cast out back to his small town home, Haxus in tow.

Actually, killing Haxus would have been the mercy.  But that was splitting fur.

“Just as I expected,” Sendak muttered.  “This proves it.”

Oh, boy.  This again.  “It proves that he has an interest in military history,” Haxus argued, hissing it out under his breath.  He didn’t like arguing with Sendak as a rule - it had a tendency to lead to pain, if nothing else - but in this he had to.  It had been going on for long enough.  

Sendak shook his head, stepping to the side so he could keep watching Ulaz as he walked through the crowd.  “No.  It proves he’s looking for military secrets.  He and his companion are spies, I know it.”

They were back to this nonsense.  Haxus had been over every data point and reason that Sendak had offered, and he hadn’t found a single piece of credible evidence.  As far as Haxus could tell, the real reason Sendak was sure they were spies was that he was bored and Ulaz and Antok were outsiders.  So Sendak was suspicious of them on principle. 

Ulaz especially.  Part of that was exposure, no doubt.  Ulaz simply happened to be the one they saw more often.  Antok was more of a traveller. Rumor had it Ulaz was recovering from something.  Illness or injury, no one knew, just that he couldn’t leave when Antok did, and that he huffed around their cottage when left behind.

“Commander, sir,” Haxus called, and Sendak stilled with sudden temper.  Technically, his rank still held, but they both knew it was Haxus buttering him up.  “You must understand that you are an object of reverence and interest among the townspeople.  Your interest rouses theirs.”

Sendak frowned and finally looked back.  “You think they’ll make a move on the traitors?”

Really, if he was that determined to protect the country, Sendak shouldn’t have sounded so upset at that.  No, he wanted to be the one to smoke them out, because he was bored.

“No, they simply notice your interest. Your very keen interest in someone known to be single, and not outside your age range.”

Finally, Haxus’ words seem to hit.

Sendak straightened up.  “They think I- with that one?”

The light dawns.  Good grief.  “Yes, they do.”

But rather than backtrack immediately, as Haxus had expected, Sendak’s expression went sly.  “Does the traitor think that?”

“I couldn’t say, Commander,” Haxus replied.  “I imagine so.”  It would explain why Ulaz avoided Sendak so studiously.

Well, so would being a traitor, but that was so completely unlikely that Haxus put it out of his head.

Nodding, Sendak watched Ulaz’ slowly shrinking form walk over the hill to his cottage.  “He does, hm? Well, He’s certainly not the worst I’ve seen.  Broad.  Could use some more decent fur and a deeper color, but compared to the others around here...”

Oh no.  Haxus had wanted to break Sendak of his little obsession, not stroke a new flame for it.  “Commander?”

“Let them think that.  Were we with our fleet, I’d have everyone flogged for the rumors, but here, there is no better, is there?  Yes, that’s acceptable.  I’ll court Ulaz, then.  And when I have my proof, I’ll reveal it and have the traitor hanged.”  Sendak grinned, revealing each and every one of his sharp fangs.  “Excellent.”

Haxus seriously considered going back to the fleet and asking for a proper death like any other failure.   _ Really? _  How had he ended up with this as his life?

“Very clever,” he replied, utterly without inflection.

Sendak cast Haxus a quick glare, but otherwise waved off his irritation, just like always.  “There’s no use waiting,” he declared.  “Victory comes to those with a swift, decisive hand.  For the good of our country, we cannot let this stand.”

“Of course we can’t.”

Sendak started off down the path, taking the parting of the crowd and whispers as his due.  Scrambling after, Haxus did his best to ignore the stares too, and tried desperately to think of what would stop this nonsense so he could go back to a relatively relaxed life.

Well, Sendak’s obsession couldn’t last forever.  Once he realized Ulaz really was just a strange, reclusive Galra with an interest in military history, he’d have to give up.

***

“I cannot allow it,” Antok told Ulaz, frowning.  “This is not your mission.”

Resisting the urge to growl, Ulaz sat heavily at the table.  “It is as much as it’s yours.”

Antok shook his head firmly.  “No, your mission is to  _ heal. _  And your insistence on walking into town several times a week isn’t helping with that.”

“Yes, it is.  I cannot stare at the same four walls for days upon days anymore.  I will rip out my own guts for toys.”  Ulaz tapped his claws on the table.  “I am fine.  I can certainly ride, and I have lost none of my skills in the past two months.  Why am I not allowed to take part in why we’re here?”

Finally, Antok sighed.  “Kolivan’s orders.”

Of course.

Looking away, Ulaz flapped a hand.  “Fine.  Go on.”

“Ulaz-”

“I won’t interfere anymore.  Go take care of our mission.  I’ll stay here.  Maybe I’ll design more prosthetics for the witch to pretend someone still finds me useful.”

“Ulaz!”  The snap made him look up, if reluctantly.  “This kind of attitude is why!  You need patience.  Your lack of it nearly got you killed in the first place.”

Narrowing his eyes, Ulaz huffed.  “My lack of patience is the reason we had the players we needed to defeat Zarkon,” he pointed out icily.

But Anok just stared, tail lashing in irritation.  “That gamble worked out, but not all of them can.  And the last one didn’t do nearly as well.”

Ulaz scowled and looked away.  His escape from the witch’s lair hadn’t gone as smoothly as hoped, but that meant little.  He’d made the right choice, even if it wasn’t the one Kolivan wanted.  But his injury gave them reason to punish him for it.

Maybe that wasn’t fair, but it was how Ulaz felt.

Gazing at him, Antok’s shoulders slumped.   “Please.  Our numbers cannot take your loss.”

Finally, Ulaz took a deep breath.  Antok was just worried.  It was more than he should be saying, even.  The Blade were a group dedicated to defeating Zarkon, and they’d done that - if only to invite in Lotor, who was a new set of problems.  But that didn’t involve attachment to fellow Blades.

Except when it did.  And it always did, no matter what anyone said.

So Ulaz supposed they could coach it in all the nice language they wanted, or pretend his injuries were still bothering him.

What they really wanted was to keep Ulaz safe and locked away for a little while where they didn’t have to anticipate where he’d jump yet.

Which, yes, was because they cared.  But he couldn’t help being at least a little insulted.

Antok hesitated, then nodded and pulled on his helmet.  “I’ll be back within two days,” he told Ulaz.  “Stay safe,  and preferably stay indoors.”

“I have my book,” Ulaz replied, which was agreement without so many words.

Besides, he could legitimately claim he’d never said he would stay inside.

Normally Antok would catch that, but he was already running late from their argument, so it seemed he wasn’t listening very closely.  “Good.  Stay safe.”

He left, and the cottage was quiet and cold for his absence.

Alright, Ulaz was just bored and lonely.  But nonetheless.

First, Ulaz busied himself with the household.  The cottage was small, and Ulaz was used to managing workers and druids and soldiers alike.  If he missed anything from his spying days, it was-

Well, he missed a lot of things.  But that kind of organization was among them.

With so little to do, that didn’t take long.  The chores taken care of, Ulaz settled down in one of the threadbare chairs, legs tucked under him and book in his lap.  

He was just beginning to lose himself in the details when there was a knock.

Ulaz frowned at the door, baffled and worried.  Their reclusive reputation kept most visitors away, and Antok wouldn’t knock.  So who could possibly be here?  Last time someone had knocked on their door, it was because there was  fire in one of the nearest buildings, and they’d been called to evacuate and help.

Heart pounding nervously, Ulaz opened the door wide.

Sendak stood there, leaning against the frame and eyes lidded aggressively.

Oh, no.

“Ah, Commander Sendak,” Ulaz murmured, ducking his head in acknowledgement.  “What brings you here?”

“A social visit,” Sendak replied, and it took a moment for Ulaz to realize his tone was a  _ purr. _

Oh,  _ shit. _

Ulaz swallowed hard and tried to close the door, but Sendak stepped forward, blocking the motion with his foot.  “I see.  Well, that’s very nice of you.  Antok just left, though, so you’re best off returning in a few days.”

Laughing, fake and loud, Sendak smiled.  It had way, way too many teeth to be anything but a threat.  “Oh, but it’s not Antok I wish to speak to.  It’s you.”  He frowned suddenly, eyes narrowed.  “I thought your relationship wasn’t-”

“It’s not,” Ulaz replied immediately.  “We were brothers-in-law, but my sister died in combat.”

Absolute nonsense, but better than just randomly living together.  Give beings a reason and they gossiped less, or at least on different subjects.

There was always some gossip, unfortunately. But then again, Ulaz couldn’t knock that.  It kept him employed.

Among other things.

“I see,” Sendak replied, all low sympathy, and Ulaz wished he’d given a different lie.  They should have just faked a relationship.  

It would save him from Sendak’s slimy interest.

Or, hell, maybe not.  Sendak’s bloodthirst was well known.  Just as likely, it would have ended with Antok dead from a jealous suitor.

Ulaz cleared his throat.  “If you don’t mind, I was just about to take a seat-”

“I’d love to sit, thank you,” Sendak replied, pushing his way in through the door.  Ulaz gave serious thought to trying to throw him back out, but it was the kind of strength that would impress.  That wasn’t what Ulaz wanted Sendak to latch onto, and raised the question of why he wasn’t currently fighting for the Galra Empire.

Moving over, Sendak picked up Ulaz’ book and started to flip through it.  But his eyes weren’t on the pages at all, instead moving around the room, taking it in.  It was modest, and probably not up to the furnishings of a war hero, even one who had survived failure on a technicality.  Galra pensions paid well, because no one was expected to use it.

Finally, Sendak peered down at the cover.  “Military history, ey?  I could teach you a thing or two about that.”

“I’m sure you could,” Ulaz replied, utterly without inflection.  “I’ve only read about it.”

Sendak’s brows rose.  “Your sister served, but you did not?”

Ulaz shrugged.  “I was a sickly child.  My talents were never physical.”

That made Sendak look him over, with an expression that made it clear that was to Ulaz’ detriment.  Just as well that it was technically true, just that Ulaz had decided to use those talents against the Empire, and then for the witch as part of that.  In fact, Sendak’s arm was a direct results of his actions - it was a modification of one of his later prototypes.

Haggar had, as always, taken the credit.  When he was younger, Ulaz would have hated that.  Now he was just happy those hated magical items couldn’t be attributed to his name and face.

“Well,” Sendak replied, pushing the topic away.  “I have many stories of my exploits, if you’d like to hear about them, sometime.  Now, even.”

“Antok is the one with an interest in modern history,” Ulaz replied, edging to the door.  “I prefer historical battles.  The start of the Altean conflict, for example, or before that, against-”

Sendak snorted, plowing past his words.  “You would pass up the opportunity to learn from a direct source?  Not very scholarly.”

Bristling, Ulaz set his jaw to keep from snarling.  “It’s an interest, not an occupation.”

“What  _ is _ your occupation?”

“I tinker,” Ulaz replied, voice final.  “Antok sells them.  That’s where he is now.  If you wish to tell your stories, come back when he’s returned.”

It was dangerously close to actually ordering Sendak.  Ulaz was used to having command of his space, even weeks after fleeing the witch’s labs.  But in this town, he was just a civilian, and that made him below any soldier, no matter how decorated or not.

Sendak took a deep breath, obviously barely controlling his temper.  He stood up and stalked over-

And Ulaz yanked the door open then stepped aside, letting Sendak step through.

“Have a good evening,” he called, then slammed it closed.

For a long moment, Ulaz didn’t hear any footsteps, and his heart pounded.  What if Sendak pushed?  What if he tried to attack him, and Ulaz had to defend himself?  Should he take the beating?  His injuries were healed

But finally Sendak stepped away, calling for Haxus, and Ulaz let out a breath.

This would have fallout, he knew that.  But Sendak’s interest wasn’t something Ulaz planned to deal with.  If Kolivan learned of it and ordered Ulaz to play Sendak, he would do so reluctantly, but not without being directly commanded.

And Kolivan would never have to know if Ulaz didn’t tell him.

Satisfied with that, Ulaz sat back down in his chair and picked his book off the floor, determined to enjoy his evening while he could.

***

_ “There must be more than this boring life!” _

_ “Relatable.  Really relatable.” _

_ “You both shot yourself into space to study ice samples.” _

_ “Like I said, boring is relatable.” _

_ “Hey!  Those samples were fascinating, you jock pilot philistine.” _

_ “That’s Lt. Philistine to you.” _

_ “You keep pulling rank and your war hero love interest will find himself demoted to janitor.” _

***

Frantic neighing caught Ulaz’ attention.  At first he ignored it, since their single equine was with Antok, but then he recognized the tone of it.

Was Antok back, then?  Had something gone wrong?  

Ulaz ran to the door, already planning out what essentials they needed to grab before they headed out, but he wasn’t greeted by the sight of Antok heading in. Instead, their horse reared up, the saddle empty.

What?

Worry choked Ulaz, and he stepped forward to soothe the horse.  “What is it, Gunther?”

***

_ “Gunther?  You named it after our dog?” _

_ “I needed a name and I couldn’t remember the one from the movie, so I just used the first thing that came to mind.” _

_ “And that was our dog?” _

_ “I’m not sure you should be throwing stones, Cadet Gunderson.” _

_ “...You’re right, it really is annoying when he pulls rank.” _

_ “I’m always right.” _

**

“What is it, Gunther?” Ulaz asked, running a huge hand down the beast’s neck.  The horse panted, eyes wide and wild, and started to tug Ulaz along by the grip on its reins.

It took several repeats of the motion for Ulaz to realize what was happening.

“You wish for me to come with you?” Ulaz asked, voice slow.  He’d never particularly treated the horse as sapient, and the idea that he’d been so fundamentally wrong was... unfortunate.  The horse was originally a human domesticated species, but they’d been adopted by many Galra as useful.  He’d never heard of them being that intelligent.

But the proof was here, as the horse gave an impatient stamp of its hooves, like he was wondering what was keeping Ulaz.

“One moment,” he told Gunther, then dashed inside, grabbing a heavier cloak.  He had no desire to face the winter cold without proper protection.  Then he took hold of a map and a weapon, before climbing up.  If Gunther had been able to return in so short a time, they couldn’t have gotten far.  Ulaz didn’t think he would need food or a change of clothes for such a short journey.

With a kick, Gunther set off at a gallop, heading down the path Antok always took.  It was the opposite direction of where he actually planned on going, facing deeper into the Galra Empire rather than the border like desired.  But there was no need to advertise where they were actually heading, not when it was so treasonous.  

Hopefully the delay wouldn’t cause Antok any harm.

What could have happened?  Obviously, it was always possible that there had been some kind of accident.  Perhaps Antok had just fallen off the horse and injured himself.  It would take a truly unlucky fall, since Galra were physically hardier than humans, but it was known to happen.  Or Antok had been injured some other way, or had passed out for some reason, or any number of unfortunate accidents.

Those were preferable. They left Antok alive, if wounded, and they were all recoverable.

Worst case scenario was that he’d been discovered where he shouldn’t be, or he’d been attacked by a human patrol.  Ulaz hadn’t seen one in well over a month, but it was always a possibility.

Shaking his head, Ulaz turned Gunther down a different path.

Even worse than that, if Antok had been caught...

Well, they all knew what to do in those cases.

Just as the others didn’t wish to see Ulaz harm himself impulsively, Ulaz didn’t wish to see Antok dead.

Finally, they passed over the border, and Ulaz took a deep breath.  This part had never been his area - instead he’d worked within the Empire itself, working up to the witch’s employ - and he’d never been in the human’s woods instead of Galra ones.

Were they always this dark and cold?  Surely the border was more social than physical.

But apparently not.  Here, it seemed to be more of a true winter, rather than the first chills of one.  Ulaz wrapped his cloak tighter and hoped that Gunther knew where he was taking them.

Then, the passed through a gate, and Ulaz realized he was heading down the path to the new Lord’s castle.

Oh, no.

Well, that certainly spoke to being captured.  But hopefully they could play the ‘I was lost’ card and, at worse, be given a short jail sentence.  Just one or two Galra didn’t make an invasion force, especially when they seemed to be merchants.

There were stables to the side that Ulaz was able to settle Gunther in, petting his neck one last time to calm him.  He seemed content to stay, so Ulaz took a deep breath, then walked to the great doors of the castle.

He knocked.

There was no answer.

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

Even late in the evening, what kind of castle didn’t have attendants to open the door?

Confused and irritated - this had to be the right place, or else Ulaz’ original thoughts on horses had been correct, damn Gunther’s strange behavior - he tried the door.

It swung open.

The inside of the castle was dark, the foyer only barely lit by the dying light from the windows.  The air tasted musty, like the doors were rarely open to allow air to circulate.  Unusual for an entranceway.

“Hello?”  Ulaz called.  “I apologize for the intrusion.  I was brought here in search of my brother-in-law.”

No response.  For a moment, Ulaz’ sharp hearing caught a noise that might have been a murmur, but when he turned, there was no one around who could have made such a noise.

Huh.

Stepping further into the castle, Ulaz began to search.


	2. Chapter 2

On a table behind Ulaz, a clock shifted slightly, turning to the suit of armor placed right next to it.  “Another one,” Hunk hissed.  “How many more Galra are going to come here?”

Keith didn’t answer, but his hand drifted pointedly to the sword on his hip.

“What are- no!”  The Galra’s ear twitched and he whirled around, but they both stilled.  He eventually began to wander again, ducking his head in doorways to look for anyone around.  “Don’t immediately start with the sword.  What’s with you?”

The mask of the armor tilted down in a frown.  “But you said-”

“I asked how many Galra were coming, not if we should start murdering them,” Hunk shot back.  “Oh, I have such a bad feeling about this.  There are Galra showing up, just as the ro-” he cut himself off and looked nervously over at Ulaz.

Keith sighed.  “We’ll figure something out.  Someone will come around soon.  It’s not fair of the magic if we never even have a chance.”

That didn’t seem to comfort Hunk.  “There was nothing fair about any of this!  What if we’re about to be invaded?  We’ll never find the right person in the middle of an invasion!  And what if the castle is taken over, and we have to serve some Galra invaders?  What if I have to be Lotor’s alarm clock?  Ugh, I feel sick.”

There was a brief silence.  “You can’t be sick, Hunk, you’re a clock.”

“I’m going to be anyway,” Hunk murmured, wooden body bending like he was about to be ill.  “It’s... it’s-”  The bells on either side of his frame began to chime, startlingly loud in the otherwise very quiet room.

The Galra whirled, hands up in a battle stance.  But there was no one he could see to fight, and after a few minutes of whirling around, he set off at a run, seeming to give up entirely on stealth.  “Antok?  Antok!”

“Well, shit,” Keith sighed.

“Sorry, Keith,” Hunk murmured.  “Let’s just go warn Shiro.  He still with the prisoner?”

Nodding, Keith scooped up Hunk in his metal hands, then started to clang his way down the hall.  “Yeah.  That Galra will take a few minutes to get up there, probably.  We’ve got time.”

Hunk sighed.  “We really don’t, Keith.  We really, really don’t.”

“I know.”

***

Dashing down the halls, Ulaz continued to call out.  “Antok!  Antok, where are you?”  His own voice echoed back, and as he moved, Ulaz continued to hear voices, mostly whispers.

But there was no one around but him.  He didn’t hear breathing, didn’t hear heartbeats, didn’t see anything that looked like someone hiding out.

So who was  _ talking? _

After several minutes of frantically trying to outrun the voices, Ulaz finally heard a returning call.  “Ulaz?”

“Antok!”  Ears twitching, Ulaz spun until he figured out the direction the cry was coming from.  A passageway lead up a winding stone staircase.  He darted up that, taking them two at a time, until he came out at the top.

In a dungeon.

“For the love of the Mother of All, Ulaz!  What are you doing here?” Antok demanded.  He was leaning against the bars, looking distinctly put out by his predicament.

Frankly, at this point, Ulaz was just glad to see him in one piece.  “The horse lead me here,” he replied.  “So I came inside.  There are invisible enemies here, Antok!  We must get you out.”

For some reason, that made Antok snort.  “Not so invisible,” he replied.  “You should have stayed at the village.  But you’re right, we need to get out of here.  My message was intercepted, but there’s no retrieving it, now.  He could read it.”

Ulaz paused, claw over the lock in preparation to pick it.  “He, who?”

“Me.”

The voice was sudden, low, and very, very close.  Ulaz whirled, but his eyes weren’t quite enough to cut through the darkest corners of the dungeon, where the voice came from.

Still, some long forgotten instinct tugged at Ulaz, making him press back against the bars of Antok’s cage.  There were very few beings that managed to make him feel like  _ prey. _

Whoever this was, they managed.

“Who was the message for?” The voice demanded, low and fierce.  It wasn’t a yell, simply a command.  This voice expected to be obeyed.

Antok stared back, arms crossed and tail lashing in stubborn fury.

Shooting him a look, Ulaz faced the shadows again.  When he tilted his head just so, he caught reflected light that might have been off of their interrogator’s eyes.  “We’re traders.  He was just bringing an order of my work-”

“I can read the message.”

Ulaz’ mouth closed with a click.

No wonder Antok had shut up rather than keep up the charade.  It wasn’t out of temper or stubborn pride.  It was because there was literally no use.  What trader would have a coded message about border traffic?

“He will not leave until he tells me what he knows,” the voice continued, still in that tone of command.  “It’s too dangerous.”

Ulaz’ mind worked, trying to figure out a way out of this.  They needed Antok to continue running messages, but they couldn’t let whoever this was know anything about the Blade.

But, well, if it was a prisoner they wanted...

“You need collateral?  I’ll stay.”

There was dead silence in response.  Then Antok cursed in loud Galran.  In response, there was a sudden growl in response.

Whatever this captor was, there was no way they were human, but they spoke with a human’s accent.  Strange.

“You can’t.  This is exactly- we were just talking about your impulses!”

Ulaz shrugged.  “This isn’t an impulse.  I’m the better choice to be here.  You can interrogate me instead.”

It was an incredibly flimsy argument, but there was a thoughtful silence from the shadows.   “Why should I?” They finally asked, but it was nearly curious.

“Antok won’t move against you while you have me as your prisoner,” Ulaz replied.  “You can be assured our work has nothing to do with you.  It was simply about the border and nothing more.”

“It’s my border,” the voice shot back instantly.  “That’s my responsibility.”

Ulaz shook his head, annoyed.  “The news is that there’s no news.  Any of the village people could tell you that.”

There was a hint of movement in the shadow, like the whole of it was moving.  Ulaz waited a few moments, but there was only more silence.

Ulaz broke first.  “Come into the light.”

The shifting froze, then slowly, someone stepped out.

Or it might have been more accurate to say some _ thing. _

It was a huge hulking beast, and only Ulaz’ voracious reading let him know it was, essentially, a lion.  But larger than any lion should be, and near all of it was pitch black.  The only exceptions were stripes of grey, like the beast was covered in old scars, a streak of bright white fur through the ragged mane, and a scar showing pink skin over the bridge of the nose.

That and the prosthetic.

Immediately, Ulaz’ attention caught onto that.  It looked like one of his own designs, though Ulaz certainly would have known it if he’d made something for an animal like this.  The sleek, silver metal perfectly matched the other foreleg, and moved as smoothly.

It had to have been based on one of the prosthetic Ulaz had made.  Specifically, it looked aesthetically similar to the one for the Champion.

Someone was copying his work?  Bastards.  Ulaz would find out who, and then he’d rip their arms off for the theft.  Bad enough he had to make them, bad enough that Haggar gave him out to such dangerous beings, no one else needed to be making more of them. 

“You will not attempt to escape?” The lion-beast asked, and no wonder it hadn’t sounded human.  It was a wonder such a mouth could speak syllables at all.  He sat on his haunches, grey eyes cooly evaluating.  “I have a responsibility to keep this border safe, but I do not wish to be unnecessarily forceful.  I will only do what I must.”

Wait, was this some kind of guardian the new Lord had taken?

Or.... or  _ was _ this the Lord?

Alteans were  _ out of their damn minds. _

“I will not,” Ulaz replied, with no deep intentions of keeping that promise.  “Please let me do this.”

Antok snarled, and the noise made the lion’s ears flatten.  “Do I not get a say?”

“I’m in recovery anyway,” Ulaz shot back, maybe a touch bitter.  “Why shouldn’t I be useful?”

Antok visibly ground his teeth.  “Ulaz-”

The beast moved forward, coming up onto his back legs.  Like this, Ulaz could see that he was wearing pants, which was somehow one of the strangest details he’d noticed so far.  Reaching to his belt, the lion pulled off a set of keys, then opened the door.  “I agree to the trade.”

Pushing passed Antok, Ulaz stepped into the cell and crossed his arms.  “Go.”

Antok wavered, and the beast looked back over his shoulder.  “Keith.”

Immediately, there was clanging footsteps, and someone in a suit of armor stepped forward.

Except, no, it didn’t sound like someone in armor.  It echoed hollowly with each step.

This was  _ just _ a suit of armor.

Grabbing onto Antok, the armor - Keith, apparently - dragged him along, unbothered by Antok’s struggles.  With a last glance back, his fellow Blade turned and started to walk without a fight.

He’d be back.  Just not quickly.  The Blade way would be to speak to Kolivan, and that alone would take time, and then they’d formulate a plan, and refomulate, then reassess and do the whole thing over again.

For the next while, Ulaz was going to be the prisoner of a beast.

But to his surprise, the beast didn’t close the cell door again.  He stepped back, tail lashing lazily.  “I’ll see you to your room.”

Ulaz paused.  “Excuse me?”

The beast gave him a look like he was slow.  “Your room.”  He sat again, regal except for the flat irritation on his face.  “Do you want to stay here?  This was for the interrogation, but if you’ll be staying long term, I’m not going to make you stay here.”  Then his head ducked, going suddenly aggressive.  “I’m not like your Emperor.”

It was such a dark turn that Ulaz almost wanted the beast to close the door anyway.  At least there’d be bars between them.  Ulaz was no slouch with fighting, but something of this size would be difficult, especially if he was intelligent like this.

But, no, if he had a choice, Ulaz would take a bed.  “You are not,” Ulaz confirmed, with no qualms at the stab at Zarkon.  He agreed.  “Thank you.”

There was a long moment of distrustful quiet, then the lion bound ahead, and Ulaz jogged to keep up.

“For now, do not leave your room,” the beast told him.  “I will send someone when you are allowed out.”  There was a moment of silence, then he sighed.  “It will not take long.  The castle is not prepared for someone else.”

That didn’t seem to be an exaggeration.  Aside from Shiro and the empty armor bodyguard, Ulaz hadn’t seen a single soul.

“Understood,” Ulaz replied, more than used to places where he wasn’t allowed to wander.  He’d disobey, but nothing so immediate.  “If I need any kind of emergency assistance, what should I do?”

Opening the door to what must have been guest rooms, the beast shot him a flat look.  “Yell for Shiro.”

Then he closed the door behind Ulaz, loud and final.

Shiro.

_ Shiro. _

The coloring, the scar, the voice.

The prosthetic.

It looked like one of Ulaz’ designs because, somehow, it was one.  Because somehow, this was Shiro.  This was the Champion he’d set free.

And judging from the utter lack of reaction, he didn’t remember Ulaz’ part in that freedom.  Or in the part he’d played taking it away in the first place as he made the arm that would turn him into a weapon.

And now, Ulaz was the prisoner, and Shiro the captor.

Collapsing onto the bed, Ulaz covered his face.  Then he started to laugh.

***

_ “This is getting kind of real, Matt.” _

_ “I... oh.  Maybe.  You okay, Shiro?” _

_ “I’m fine.  No, really, I’m fine.  I lived this, minus the giant black lion part.” _

_ “Which would have been cool.” _

_ “Actually, yeah, that’d have been really cool.  And while we’re stopping, I have some questions about the timeline-” _

_ “-Anyway, moving on!” _

***

It took a long time for Ulaz to calm down from his hysterics, and even longer for him to move.  After fleeing Zarkon and the witch, Ulaz had given up a lot of the luxuries his position had afforded him.  They weren’t worth the work, not even close, but... well, it was nice to be on a  _ good _ bed again.  This might even be better than that one had been.  After all, humans were known for their luxuries, weren’t they?

But a knock pulled him from his thoughts, and Ulaz sat up.  “Yes?”

The door opened, and a cart moved in on its own.  Ulaz jumped, once again nervous of invisible fighters, but there were no footsteps.  Just the squeaky wheels of the cart.

On it were just two objects.  One was a battered coffeemaker, sturdy with streaks of discolored grey like it had been through many long years.  The other was a silver goblet, inlaid with blue jewels.  Both had peculiar designs on the side like faces.

“You could probably use a pick-me up,” said a voice, and it took Ulaz several moments to realize it was the coffee maker that was talking.

He wasn’t proud of it, but Ulaz yelled and threw one of the pillows at the thing.

“Hey!”  This time it was the goblet, which struggled for several seconds to right itself.  “Um, Sam?”

The coffee maker hopped forward and used its handle to help push the goblet up. “There you are.”

“Thanks.  You know what’d be cool right now?  Arms.  Arms would be cool.  Anyway, hi, I’m Lance, you’re our invading force that Hunk was talking about.  Nice to meet you.  This is Sam, by the way.  You drink coffee?”

“I...” Ulaz looked between both  _ talking objects, _ still trying to process.  “I’ve never tried it.”

Sam let out a little puff of steam, and Ulaz stared harder.  “Never tried coffee?  Today’s your lucky day.  Try some.”  He tipped over, filling Lance with a small measure.

Hopping closer to the edge, Lance leaned forward so Ulaz could see inside.  “Take a fucking sip, babe.”

***

_ “Are you kidding me?” _

_ “He would!  He totally would!” _

_ “Okay, yes, he would, but this is supposed to be 17th century France, isn’t it?  So why is Dad a coffee maker?” _

_ “Actually, no, I’ll give him that one.  I don’t think I can imagine Sam as anything else now.” _

_ “Plus, that makes Dad the Mrs Potts.” _

_ “...Think we could get him to sing the song at that part?” _

_ “Now you’re thinking, munchkin.” _

***

Pausing at the odd phrase, Ulaz finally reached around and picked up the goblet.  It was clearly shaped for human-sized hands and not Galra ones (and not lion paws, either), but he took gentle hold and brought it to his mouth.  When there was no objection from Lance, he took a sip.

Then he choked.

It was  _ bitter. _

Sam laughed, bright and delighted.  “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Then I don’t think I wish to acquire it,” Ulaz shot back, mostly on autopilot.

“More for us, then,” Lance replied, and the way the edges of the goblet raised gave the impression of a shrug.  “So c’mon, spill.  When’s the invasion, huh?  You better talk, or we’ll force feed you more coffee.”

Ulaz stared at them both.  “Is.. is this the interrogation?”

Rolling his eyes - or, the part of the design that looked like eyes - Sam sighed.  “No, Lance is just being excitable.  We’re here to check in on you.  Shiro is working with Allura and Coran to get the place at least somewhat in order.”

Those names were familiar, but Ulaz wasn’t sure why.  He didn’t know anyone who would be working at the castle - object or otherwise.

“How are you speaking?” Ulaz finally demanded, picking Lance up again.  “What sort of magic is this?”

Bucking, Lance smacked Ulaz’ fingers with the rim of his base.  “Hey!  Gentle with me, here.  You’re going to loosen my sapphires.  They’re my shiniest feature.”  The squirming made Ulaz nearly drop him, so he set Lance back down on the tray.

Sam cleared his throat.  “Well, I’m not the man to ask about that, I’m afraid.  Magic was never really my area.  We’ll talk to Allura later, she’ll know best.”

“Have Pidge and Matt explain,” Lance replied, and while his tone was airy, even Ulaz could hear the mischief in it.

Letting out another of those puffs of steam, Sam shook himself.  “No.  Not a chance.  As much as I love my children, I don’t wish them on Ulaz for this.”

Ulaz frowned. “Coffee makers have children?”

There was a slightly guilty silence.  “Well,” Sam finally continued, ignoring the question entirely.  “If coffee isn’t to your taste, we’ll have tea sent up instead.  Or just water, maybe.”

“Water would be fine,” he replied distractedly, much more interested in the question they avoided.  “If you can’t answer that, how much longer do I need to be in this room?  It’s late, and I wonder if I missed dinner.”

Lance snorted.  “Oh, you didn’t.  I promise you that.”

“We’ll look into getting that started,” Sam replied.  “Hold tight for now.”

With that, their cart picked up speed, and the door opened to let them out.

Ulaz stared after them.

Magic he understood, if only as an energy source.  The kind of thing that could turn objects sentient - truly sentient, not just automaton-esque - took incredible power.  It was the kind of thing Ulaz might expect to see one object eventually obtain.  Not a castle worth of them.

What was this place?

Ulaz had said he’d stay in place.  When he’d said it, he’d meant it, even.  There was no reason to give him these luxuries except to take them away, after all, and it did him no good to immediately antagonize his captor.  Let them get comfortable and understand the status quo before he interrupted it.

All perfectly reasonable, except for the part that Ulaz was bored, and when he was bored, his mind came up with a thousand questions, and then he didn’t want to leave them unanswered.  Besides, Shiro had said to stay until someone came.  Now someone had come and gone.

Reaching out, Ulaz tried the door.

Unlocked.

They really weren’t very good at this prisoner thing, were they?  Or maybe a goblet and a coffee maker weren’t made to deal with locks.

Fair enough.

Stepping out into the main hall, Ulaz considered.  Then he started to wander.

***

Human military history was not Ulaz’ strong suit.  He had a passing knowledge as an enemy fighting force, but outside of that, he’d never been particularly interested.  It wasn’t until there had been rumors of a team of humans helping the Blade that he’d really thought of them other than a nuisance.

Well, except for one exception.  But Ulaz didn’t want to think about that right now.

Had he, Ulaz suspected that this castle would have been exactly up his alley.  The walls were covered in tapestries, now beginning to dust from lack of proper care, and the walls were lined with human armors and weapons.

It took a moment for him to realize one of the suits was different from the others.  

Ulaz knew, because the helmet turned to follow him.

“Are you aware that you are unsettling when you do that?” Ulaz called, glancing back over his shoulder.

The armor - Keith, Ulaz thought - paused.  “Yes,” he replied simply.  Then he stepped over, looking Ulaz over.  “You are not supposed to be out.”

“My room was unlocked.  I assumed that was an invitation to explore.”

There wasn’t a response for a moment, then the armor nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll stay with you.  There are things Shiro wouldn’t want you getting into.”

The name sent another shiver down Ulaz’ spine.  What were the odds?  It felt bigger.  Almost like fate.

“If you wish,” Ulaz replied, tone carefully polite.  “Alright.  You’re welcome to walk with me, Keith.”

With that, he continued on.  But the simple pleasure of exploring was marred by the knowledge of his watchman, so Ulaz stopped wandering through the side halls and headed into the main areas of the castle.

Which was how he found the dining room.  Including the incredibly strange assortment of items on top of it.

“I’m just saying,” said some sort of toolbox.  “That it’s worth a shot.  How long do we all want to be stuck like this?”

***

_ “A toolbox?  Tell me that’s you.  That’s gotta be you.” _

_ “Hey, I’m a very handy man.  A toolbox makes total sense.” _

_ “That and you’re a tool.” _

_ “Thank you, peanut gallery.  I’m glad you agree with my very clever and accurate summations of ourselves as everyday items in a French castle in the 1700s.  I too think I did an amazing job.  Will you shut the hell up and let me talk?” _

_ “See?  Tool.” _

_ “Shut up or I’ll make you a douchebag.” _

_ “...Why would I own a douchebag?” _

_ “I don’t know your life, Shirogane.  Now pipe down.” _

_ *** _

A particularly lovely looking vase shook itself, making the pink flowers inside shudder.  “But this one?”  They asked, voice regal, with a hint of an accent that didn’t speak of being human.  

The voice was also very familiar. 

Where did Ulaz know that voice from?

“Now, Princess,” a feather duster murmured, the bristles twitching on their face like a mustache.  “In this case, I don’t think we can afford to be picky.”

“I’ll be picky if I please!”  The vase - the Princess, was that  _ Princess Allura? _ \- snapped back.  “This isn’t just about us. It’s about Shiro as well.”

“She’s got a point. This is supposed to be true love.  All things considered, this isn’t our best possible candidate,” agreed a small trowel, impatiently tapping their green handle on the table.

***

_ “I’m a shovel?” _

_ “It’s gardening!  Like your lion.  Plants or whatever.  Plus, you like to dig up dirt.” _

_ “...Okay, when you put it like that.” _

_ “You’re also a trowel, anyway.  So hand-sized.” _

_ “I take it back, I don’t like it anymore.” _

_ “Too bad, you don’t get to pick.  My story, my rules.  Now you both need to shut up already, jeez.” _

***

Next to Ulaz, Keith knocked on the door.  “Bad place to talk,” he told them.

All four froze guiltily.  “Oh,” muttered the toolbox.  Their lid suddenly closed, and the design on the top managed to look sheepish.  “Probably not.  Wait, why’s he out?  What are you doing out, prisoner?”

“The door was open” Ulaz repeated, sighing.  “I thought I was being let out.”

Princess Allura (it couldn’t be, but that would certainly explain why she disappeared) huffed, and she peered up at him.  Somehow, she managed to make the arrangement of flowers look accusing.  He had no idea how she managed it.  “You should be locked up.  It’s dangerous for you to just be wandering about.”

“Dangerous how?” Ulaz asked.

There was another sudden silence.

“Well,” the feather duster called, suddenly cheerful.  “Lots of things to trip over and hurt yourself.  Wrinkled rugs, all that.  There hasn’t been much reason to look after the place, and we didn’t know we’d have company, did we?”  Clearing his throat (how did a feather duster have a throat?) they stepped forward.  “I am Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, and I am-”

“Maybe not a good idea with the names?” The trowel interjected quickly.  “Maybe let’s not.”

Keith sighed.  “We might as well introduce ourselves.  Unless we want to be called by our object types the whole time.”

The toolbox flapped one handle in a nervous manner.  “That’s fine for some of us.  Speaking of, hey.  Name’s Matt.  If you use anything from the box, put it back or I’ll fight you.”

“He’ll win,” Keith commented.

“Nope, I will.  Watch me.  Anyway, intros are fine for me and you.  Not so fine for all of us.”

The vase nodded, water sloshing noisily inside.  “I agree.  We need to be careful, here.”

“You’re the Princess,” Ulaz guessed flatly.

There was another round of silence.

“Ha, no. What?  That’s silllyyy,” Matt replied.  “Right, Katie-bear?  Nonsense.  Weird.  What even gave you that idea?”

“Not even close,” the trowel said, just as flat as Ulaz has been.  “For the record, I’m Pidge.  Call me Katie-bear and I’ll stab through your foot.”

Ulaz nodded his understanding.  Frankly, he was relieved not to have to use such a childish address.  “She is Princess Allura.  Coran called her Princess.  She has an Altean accent.  The flowers are Juniberry.”

Coran jumped in front of definitely-Princess-Allura-now.  “Stay away from the Princess, you fiend!  I can still take you like this, mark me.  A few of the old  _ ka-pows! _ You’ll be on your Galra back in moments.”

“I have no intentions of hurting anyone,” Ulaz replied, his hands up.  “I have no loyalties to Zarkon.  At this point, I only wanted to look around.”

“If he’s any trouble we’ll take him to Shiro,” Keith replied calmly, shrugging his shoulders.  The armor creaked alarmingly.  It was likely decorative, and not made for such a movement.  “He’s here for a long time anyway.  It’s not like we hide it.”

Pidge sighed, the edges of the trowel drooping like shoulders.  “Would have been nice if we kept it quiet for longer than three hours.”

“If he was in his room, this wouldn’t be an issue,” Allura shot back, still eyeing Ulaz distrustfully.  “You should stay locked up where you belong.”

Ulaz considered her, considering telling them that he was in the Blade of Marmora.  But he didn’t know the extent to which Kolivan trusted her with the workings of their organization.

It wouldn’t do to volunteer something that Kolivan would get upset for later.  He would if he had to, but Ulaz had been benched long enough as it was.  He wasn’t going to give Kolivan more opportunities to keep him locked up somewhere.

Assuming he got out of being locked up here.

Hm.

“I meant no harm,” Ulaz replied carefully.  “And I mean you none as well.  It does me no good to attempt to hurt any of you.”  He glanced up, frowning at where the now-beastial Shiro was proably located.  “I suspect I wouldn’t come out well after.”

“Darn right!” Coran said, bristles fluffing again.  “I’d have your ears on my wall!”

“It’s not your wall,” Keith pointed out.

Coran huffed.  “Not this one.  The proper ones.  A trophy to bring back to King Alfor!”

Matt made a face. “You steal people’s ears for trophies?  Gross.”

“Not usually,” Allura replied.  “Now, off with you.”

Brows up, Ulaz considered them.  “Is the idea to starve me?”

“Eh, let him eat.  No song and dance number or anything, but no sense letting the guy go hungry.  Besides, we’ve got a ton of magically stored food and not a lot to do with it.  Shiro doesn’t eat enough for a castle and we’re not having midnight snacks any time soon.”  Pidge gestured with her handle-head.  “C’mon, I’ll show you where the snacks are.”

Ulaz followed after, amused at the small shovel leading the way.

If nothing else, he certainly wasn’t bored anymore.

***

It was to that scene - Ulaz sitting at the table, surrounded by a variety of snacks, flanked on both sides by Matt and Pidge (Katie Holt, evidently, but ‘No, seriously, call me Pidge’) that Shiro walked in on.

He paused, fur ruffling as he startled, then glanced around.  Allura and Coran were still at the other end of the table, essentially standing guard, while Keith was stationed between them.  “I see you found the dining room.”

“Is that a problem?” Ulaz asked, holding up a cookie.  It was made of something called ‘peanut butter’, and Pidge was eyeing it like she was going to make an attempt to eat it out of his hand.  She’d expressed an immense displeasure with their existence, calling them a ‘horrible tease’ and asked Ulaz to get rid of them in a way that didn’t involve throwing them out.

He hadn’t known he might get his fingers bitten off for his troubles.

Shiro shook his head.  “No.  We’re not here to starve you.  Just be careful.  Pr- uh, Allura, Coran, are you alright?”

“Oh, no sense hiding it.  He already figured it out.”  Coran looked distinctly put out.

Fluffy brows up, Shiro looked back over at Ulaz.

“There were clues,” Ulaz replied easily.  “And the fact that the Princess had mysteriously vanished not long ago certainly helped.”

Shiro out let curious noise, certainly feline in nature, and then reared back like he was astonished with himself.  His tail lashed for a moment, mood clearly soured, but he moved over and sat down across from Ulaz.  Or, tried.  The tail seemed to make it difficult, and his legs clearly weren’t meant to be propped up like that.  After a moment he gave up, tucking his hind legs under him on the seat and resting his huge paws on the table.  The effect was, at best, comical.  “I suppose everyone knows that now.  I’m surprised you haven’t invaded yet.”

“I imagine the curse protects you from it,” Ulaz replied.  “And yes, it’s quite well-known, even in my nation.”

Allura sighed, her flowers wilting.  Coran patted the edge of her face with his bristles.  “Father must be so upset.”

Bowing his head, Ulaz gave a small nod.  “The rumors suggest so,” he replied carefully.  “I am from a border town, so we hear more news than most.”

Clearing his throat, Matt raised a handle.  “Actually, pause.  Curse.  What?”

Ulaz looked over the table.  A giant pitch-black lion with distinctive scars and a metal arm, a princess and her advisor along with... servants?  Friends?  All of whom had been turned into objects.

He stared back at Matt.

The handle dropped.  “Alright, fair.  I mean, how do you know we weren’t like this before, I guess?”

“I had heard about this castle being filled again,” Ulaz replied.  “Nothing specific, but not likely to be a lion.  And considering a castle like this should have more inhabitants, I assume they either fled or were affected by the same affliction.”

Pidge snorted.  “Yeah,  _ Shiro, _ the castle should have more inhabitants.”

Letting out a low, dangerous rumble, Shiro glared at her.  “Thank you for your comment, Pidge.”

She shrugged the edge of her blade, smirking.  “No problem.”

Apparently Shiro’s temper wasn’t something that bothered her.  In fact, all of them seemed to wave it off, though Keith took a step closer.

So either his temper was known to be nothing to fear, or they were too used to it to bother.

Hm.

“I have a proposition for you,” Ulaz finally spoke.  “You have a need, and I have a need.  I would like to have my freedom back, and so would you.  If I was able to help you break the curse, having me here would only be a problem, anyway.”

Shiro considered him, expression blank.

Or, maybe it wasn’t and Ulaz was just terrible at reading beast faces.

"Great idea!" Matt suddenly said, hopping between them.  "I think that works out great for everyone, don't you?"

Shiro looked started, frowning down at Matt.  "What?"

"Everyone gets exactly what they want," Matt replied, flapping a handle.  "Ulaz helps you break the spell.  When we're all free to go, so's he.  Sounds like the perfect plan to me.  Why not?"

Something passed between them, but Pidge moved forward next.  "We haven't had many chances, Shiro.  And we don't really get people stumbling in here to help much, either.  I think he's right that it's part of the curse.  Anyone looking for us probably can't find us."

Shiro's head drooped.  "So your-"  He winced and looked away, long tail lashing.  The bushy end of it trailed against the floor, kicking up dust.  "I see what you mean.  There's many problems with this."  He took a deep breath.  "Allura, Coran?"

There was a pause as they both looked at each other.  "I don't see that we have many options, like Pidge said," Coran replied, though he didn't seem altogether happy about it.

"I can’t say the idea pleases me," Allura muttered.  "I suppose this can work out.  But Shiro, this is your decision more than ours."

"Not just mine," Shiro replied, and his gaze cut over to Ulaz.  

"I believe I was the one that offered," Ulaz replied, watching the by-play.

Honestly, it was fascinating to watch.  Shiro had a camaraderie with the Princess and her advisor that Ulaz never would have dreamed of.  It was nothing like Zarkon's command or how he encouraged his generals to act, even taking in his odd relationship with the Witch.  Nor was it anything like what the Blade of Marmora had, with their quiet brotherhood and strict laws.  This was informal.  Friendly.

It was honestly making Ulaz uncomfortable, and he couldn't put his finger on why.

"We'll look into it more," Shiro replied.  "I don't want to lock you into anything.  If it requires something nasty, you are by no means required to fulfil it."

For some reason, the mood of the room darkened.

Ulaz suspected they knew more than him, still.  Not that it was altogether surprising.

"You value freedom," he observed.

It was pushing it, but Ulaz was curious.  In fact, he was dying to know why Shiro didn't seem to recognize him.  After all, Ulaz didn't look different than he had.  It was Shiro who had changed radically.  So why was it that Ulaz had known him first?  

Shiro nodded, head bowed like he wore a heavy weight on his brow.  "Yes.  I do.  I lost mine, and I don't remember how I regained it, but I won't do that to anyone else.  What little I remember... it was a terrible time."

"Yet you took mine," Ulaz pointed out, swallowing to try and cover his reaction.

Shiro didn't remember anything of his capture?

Good.  He shouldn't.  Ulaz wished he didn't remember the assignment.  It was among the darkest of all his missions.

Letting out an uncomfortable rumble, Shiro nodded.  "I value it, but I won't compromise the safety of my team or the Princess for it.  It's not about how I feel.  I don't know how the curse works, but I don't want news of the Princess' location and vulnerability out."

Honestly, Ulaz could respect that.  Nodding, he leaned back.  "I don't believe I have to like it, but I understand it."

"Good," Shiro replied, and he looked pleased at the answer.  "I'd appreciate it if you could help us."

"I admit, I'm curious," Ulaz replied.  

Shiro paused, then tilted his head.  "If you're done eating, then maybe I can offer you something that'll help with that."  He cracked a grin.  "Besides, cookies aren't much of a meal.  I'm sure Hunk will be thrilled to cook for more than just me.  If nothing else, it gives him someone else to scold for their habits."

"He's right, you know," Keith replied.  "You're going to have a heart attack in ten years at that rate."

Shiro rolled his eyes, the effect odd on his feline face.  "If I live that long, it'll be a miracle."

"Shiro," Keith replied, a warning to his voice.

Shrugging, Shiro stood.  "I know, I know, dark humor."

From the way his helmet was tilted, Ulaz didn't think the joke was the problem.  But Keith didn't continue the scolding, and no one else seemed willing to pick it up.  

Well, Ulaz wasn't about to step into this argument.  Pushing up, he nodded.  "Let's go."

***

_ "Quick comment: That was unnecessary." _

_ "It was absolutely necessary.  It's character building.  In this situation, Hunk would absolutely be on you about your eating habits.  They're terrible when you can use a fork and knife, this would just make it worse." _

_ "It's a fantasy.  Can we go 10 minutes without making pot shots about what I like to eat?" _

_ "Grow tastebuds and it won't be a problem." _

_ "Don't take his side." _

_ "He's right, I'm taking the side of the person who's factually correct." _

_ "So always me." _

_ "On occasion." _

_ "Whatever.  Is my comment noted for future use?" _

_ "Fine, fine, yes, I'll leave it be.  Just because you look so sad and pathetic right now." _

_ "At this point, whatever works." _


	3. Chapter 3

The library was huge.

Ulaz spun in a slow circle, eyes wide.  "This is wonderful.  I haven't seen a library of this size since I was in the capital city."

Brows up, Shiro watched him walk around.  "You lived in the capital?"

Shit.  "No, I visited.  But I spent some time in the library while I was there."

If anything, that seemed to fascinate Shiro more.  "You went to the library on your vacation?"

"Of course," Ulaz replied.  Then he paused.  "Well, of course for me.  I understand most wouldn't.  I like to see them.  They're a good place to relax.  Quiet."

Shiro's lips pulled up.  The effect made his whiskers twitch.  "That's something you value, then."

"I did, once.  I got very little of it.  It didn’t suit me forever, but I enjoyed the pieces of it I got.  I suppose you don't, either.  All this military history and a castle to look over.  What were you before this?"

"A soldier," Shiro replied, then went quiet.

No comment on his stature, on his rank, on his relationship with the princess.  Just a soldier.

Interesting.  Not unexpected, but Ulaz had expected Shiro to at least give more detail.  He'd taken pride in his rank, once.

Then again, that had been the beginning of his capture and before the curse.  Things changed.

"You must have been a good one, to be given a property."

Shiro eyed him, then shrugged.  "To a degree.  Good enough to be considered competent, at least.  This wasn't what I wanted, but it was considered wise.  With the war ending, there was less use for soldiers.  At best, I could keep an eye on the border."

Nodding, Ulaz filed that away.  So, rumors confirmed.  "I see.  Did you like the quieter life?"

"No," Shiro replied, then started like he hadn't expected the flat answer.  "It doesn't suit me, either.  I lost track of what I was doing almost immediately.  I have no idea how to go about hiring servants or running a land.  Allura had to save me.  She's fond of doing that."  He looked nostalgic at the idea, but in a nearly bitter way.

"Then why stay?"

"The Princess asked me to."

What an unsatisfying answer.

So he valued freedom.  He was just willing to give it up for his Princess.

To Ulaz' surprise, the thought tasted bitter.  He'd like a royal who invoked that kind of loyalty.  Zarkon did, at times, but only among the most fanatical and bloodthirsty.  Like Sendak, if Sendak could be said to have any loyalty at all.

Eugh.

But mostly, he hated that Shiro had to.  That Ulaz had given him freedom, only for him to be trapped here.  

His gambit had won the war, but it hadn't saved Shiro.

To his surprise, Ulaz realized he cared more about the latter.

Maybe Kolivan had a point in shelving him.

“Well, this will certainly be useful in researching your problem,” Ulaz replied, pulling away from the conversation for now.  “Assuming you haven’t read them all yourself.”

Shiro laughed at that, padding over to match Ulaz’ slow laps around the room.  “No, definitely not.  I like reading, but not enough to get through all of these.  Especially since I spent a lot of the past while adjusting.”  He held up one huge paw, the move surprisingly dainty.  “This didn’t come with an instruction manual.”

“You had to figure out how to move well again?”  Ulaz’ brows rose.  

Inclining his head, Shiro switched to the other paw, this one metal.  “I had practice.”

“Fair enough.  Well, you have a decent excuse, I suppose.”

Tail flicking again, Shiro nodded.  “I appreciate your approval.”

Ulaz found himself smiling and didn’t bother to fight it.  For all he’d admired Shiro and saved him, he’d never really talked to him.  Just watched.

He was a good conversationalist.  The dark humor he’d thrown in Haggar’s face was more tempered here.

“As you should,” Ulaz replied, straightening his shoulders as though he was the master of the castle.  Next to him, Shiro let out a low laugh.  “But before I start, I’d like to ask a few questions.  There are many curses, so it’d be easier if I could narrow it down.”

Shiro paused, then nodded.  “Alright.”  He stood facing Ulaz, hands folded calmly behind his back.  “What do you need to know?”

Good question.  Ulaz was knowledgeable of curses, but it wasn’t his area of study, not really.  He’d just used it as a power source.  “What happened the night of the incident?”

Tilting his head, Shiro looked him over.  “You really do read a lot of fiction, don’t you?”

Ulaz’ ears twitched but he didn’t otherwise react to the direct hit.

“Well, Allura and Coran were here to help me get the land back under control and to teach me the basics.  Again.  The rest were visiting.  Apparently they decided I needed company after being alone in a castle.”  Shiro paused, then shrugged.  “They weren’t wrong.  Regardless, it had been... a lot of noise and speaking and interaction after my unintentional isolation, so I had moved away to recenter myself.  I was close enough to the door that I heard the knock.”

Then Shiro paused, and his gaze went distant.  Ulaz waited a long minute, curiosity fueling his impatience, but he stayed quiet.  “If it’s a problem, we can wait till another time.”

Shiro started.  Clearly, he’d been lost in thought.  “No, apologies,  I was just remembering.  No, you should know where to start; it’s a reasonable question, given your position.  There was a woman.  The night was awful, cold and stormy, and she was looking for a place to stay the night.  I refused her.  With the princess there, I couldn’t chance it.  She... offered an exchange and pushed her way into my space.  I reacted badly.”  He closed his eyes.  “I used the arm.  It’s a weapon, foremost.  After that, she cursed me.  All of us.”  Glancing up at Ulaz again, Shiro’s shoulders slumped.  “I deserve this.  I should never have threatened her with violence that way.  But everyone else doesn’t deserve this.  They miss their families and they have duties and lives they should be living.  I know you’re doing this to get out, but I’m still thankful for the help.”

Looking over Shiro, Ulaz took a deep breath.  “I see.  Well, I’ll continue to do my best.  But I don’t believe you deserve this the way you think you do.  Even if you struck out, it’s not an even trade to curse you like this, especially if it sounds like she wasn’t respecting you first.”

Silence hung, then Shiro turned his back on Ulaz.  He sank onto all fours rather than keeping himself balanced on two legs.  “Regardless, I wish you luck.”

Then door closed behind him with a thud.

Maybe Ulaz had been wrong.  Maybe there was more to saving someone than just opening the door for them.

It was a bitter thought.

***

Slowly, day by day, a routine emerged.

Ulaz would rise early and, on clear days, begin the morning by exploring the grounds.  Spending every hour indoors was too much to ask, and this made the rest of the time more bearable.  Eventually he had to dig out warmer clothing as the temperature continued to drop.  Ulaz was barely better than the average human at dealing with low temperatures, and he was actually worse than the current inhabitants.

“He wears a lot of black, doesn’t he?” Ulaz muttered, looking through the closets.  Since Shiro hadn’t been doing much entertaining until the night of the curse, there shouldn’t have been a lot of extra clothes.

There were anyway.  Apparently, at least one of the other inhabitants had a hobby.  But since it was made from Shiro’s clothing, it was...

Well, monochromatic, to say the least.

***

_ “The Blade of Marmora all wear the same dark purple jumpsuits.  I don’t think they’d care.” _

_ “It’s an alternate history, you don’t know that.  Maybe they’re very festive dressers this time around, Gremin.  You think of that?” _

_ “Well, they are spies, I don’t think bright pinks do a lot for that.  Especially given Galra fashion sense.” _

_ “Pipe down, sicky.  Besides, it’s France, fashion is supposed to be a thing there.” _

_ “It’s not even real France.” _

_ “I said pipe down.  Anyway, someone needs to give you shit about your color coordinated nonsense.  Apparently being the Black Paladin means you need to dress like a dorky goth.” _

_ “I wore black before this.” _

_ “Because you have no taste.” _

_ “I don’t want to hear it from Mr Orange over here.” _

_ “Okay, okay, I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.  Both of you shut up.” _

_ “Hmph.  Anyway.” _

***

Leaving the closet alone for now, Ulaz made his way out.

Often, he was alone for his explorations and runs.  Most of the inhabitants had trouble with long term locomotion, these days.  The only one exception was Keith, who seemed to take security of the castle seriously, considering how difficult it was to find.  Usually, Ulaz saw him haunting the walkways and towers, watching.

It was a little horror story-like, to look up and see a suit of armor watching him.  Ulaz was adjusting.

Some days, maybe once a week, Shiro joined him.

When they wandered the grounds, Shiro stayed on two feet, matching Ulaz’ height so they could speak better.  During those walks, Ulaz realized how little Shiro knew about the castle he lived in, even now.  He neither had an idea of it’s history or construction nor of what kind of upkeep it required.

“Coran mostly took over,” Shiro admitted.  “I tried to keep up, but he’s an expert at it.  And he has so little else to do, I felt bad to try and take it away.  I’l learn later.  Right now... he’s worried.”

They all were.  The secrecy of the castle was tenuous at best, as Antok and Ulaz readily proved.  There was only so long the country could continue without its Princess before Haggar or Lotor decided it was too tempting a target.

After breakfast, Ulaz always spent the rest of the morning researching.

He had help with that.  Now that there was someone with hands at the ready for shelving, all three of the Holts were eager to help.  This, he learned, was their family’s trade, essentially.  They were builders and tinkerers and explorers, yes, but at their heart, they were a family that wanted to learn.

Ulaz sympathized with that, so it was no problem to be the one in charge of fetching books.

More importantly, when they were all deep in a conversation, they tended to let more information drop.

“It has to be in here,” Pidge muttered, using the edges of her blade to flip through rapidly.  “It really does.  One of these.”

“You’ve been through that one five times,” Matt commented, sighing heavily.  “Give it up.”

Pidge huffed.  “Emotion curses fit best from Shiro’s description,” she argued.

“But it doesn’t match in action,” Sam replied.  “I don’t doubt Shiro’s word, but I don’t agree that we know the full story with the sorceress.  If it doesn’t match, it doesn’t match.”

“No kidding,” Pidge muttered.  “We all know it was Haggar, right?”

“Shiro doesn’t think so,” Sam replied.  There was heat to his voice this time.  And the top of the little coffee maker puffed up with angry steam.  “He would know best about that... that-”

Matt snorted.  “That witch?”

“Close.”

“You’re getting steamy, Dad.  Literally.  Watch the book.”  Matt started to turn to him, but then spotted Ulaz, still quietly reading in his chair.  He froze, but Ulaz didn’t look up or twitch, pretending to be so invested in his reading he hadn’t heard a word.

It had served him well in the Galra military, who weren’t known for being deep readers.  Eventually, it had been chalked up to being a strange quirk of Ulaz’, at least until he started to spend more time with the Druids, who understood better.  Here, among the Holts, it might get him through.

Finally, Matt started to move again.  He didn’t speak, but Ulaz heard the metal squeak of his handle moving, which meant he was probably gesturing to them to help remind them that they weren’t alone.

Why would they keep information about the curse from him?  What sense did that make?  They all wanted him to break it, that much was certain.  Even Allura had started to warm up to him, if in reluctant bursts.  So what good did it do him?

Ulaz had no idea.  But he continued on.

After that was lunch.  Ulaz usually brought a book or two with him to the dining room.  He almost never saw Shiro there, but he often found Hunk or Lance there.

“This is a tease, you know,” Lance accused him, tilting his head back.  He nearly sloshed water out over the rim.  “To have all of Hunk’s cooking to yourself.  How dare you?”

Ulaz paused,  “I would be happy to share if you could ingest it.”

The offer didn’t seem to soothe Lance any.  “Hunk, I never knew I could be tortured like this.  Save me.”

“You don’t have to be here,” Hunk replied.  “Look, I finally have someone who actually looks at what they’re eating.  Don’t take this from me, Lance.  It’s been months and I’m bored.”

Ulaz continued to chew, watching their byplay with interest.  “It’s very good,” he offered.

“I know,” Hunk replied, with a confidence Ulaz wasn’t used to seeing from him.  It only came out in regards to his skills.  It seemed that Hunk could fix anything and he could cook anything.  Even when he was a very flammable wooden clock.  

The confidence was deserved.

Sighing, Lance peered over the edge of the book.  “How’s progress coming?  You think you know what’s going on?”

“How serious is this an inquiry?” Ulaz asked.  “Do you actually want an answer, or is this small talk?”

Lance stared at him.  “I’m a  _ cup.” _

“You’re a goblet,” Hunk replied faithfully.  “That’s a lot cooler than a cup.”

Inclining his head, Lance nodded.  “Alright, true.  That’s definitely cooler. But being a crackshot archer?  Way cooler than being a goblet.”

Huh.  Ulaz filed away that bit of information.  They’d never addressed it outright, but from how they spoke to each other, Ulaz figured that the other inhabitants, minus the royals, were part of the team Shiro had lead after his capture.

He’d been in the presence of the Voltron Force and the Altean Princess this whole time, and found them everyday household items and a giant cat.

The situation was beyond ridiculous.  Ulaz had been fascinated as he read about their exploits..  He’d had eagerly soaked up every piece of gossip that came down the pipeline from the others through Antok.  And now they were  _ this. _

It was a brilliant strategic move, completely unintentionally.

Or was it?

Ulaz froze, eyes widening.

What if it wasn’t an accident of bad timing?  What if  _ this _ had been the intended result?

He stood.  “I have to go back to the library.”

“Did I intimidate you that much?” Lance joked, but he looked worried.  He and Hunk shared a glance.  “You alright up there?”

Ulaz nodded distantly.  “Yes.  I have something to think about.”

“Alright,” Hunk replied.  “Lance, you’re on clean-up.”

“Aww!  I didn’t even eat it!”

It wasn’t unusual for Ulaz to spend the afternoons working on the issue as well, but usually not this early.  Often he took a couple of hours to himself to relax and cool down before diving back in.

So when he opened the doors, Shiro started and nearly tore through the book he’d been holding.  “Ulaz!”

“Apologies,” Ulaz replied distractedly, replacing his book and switching out for another.  The Holts had left after him, it seemed, and even Keith wasn’t with Shiro.  “I had a thought.  Can you describe the sorceress to me again?”

Shiro frowned.  “Well, pale, long hair, green eyes.  I think?  Honestly, I have a lot of trouble remembering.  It’s clear it was an enchanted appearance, in hindsight.  Why?”

“Not physically.  In action and mannerisms.  What was she like?”

“Pushy,” Shiro replied flatly.  “Strong.  Wasn’t much for pauses in her speech.”  He sighed.  “I suppose I shouldn’t speak ill of her after my reaction.”

Snorting, Ulaz dropped a stack on the table, heavy enough that Shiro  _ flinched. _  “Apologies again,” he repeated, this time more sincerely.  “But I had a thought.  What if this was strategic?”

Shiro watched him carefully.  “No one should have known where Allura was, or that we’d all be here.”

“But if the Princess and several other members of your team were to suddenly disappear, and it’s known you came into land at the end of the war, it wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out.”

“They all have places to be and people to see,” Shiro argued.  “There’s no way of knowing they would come here.”

“Not when rumors of your struggles were starting to cross the border.”  There was a silence at that.  Ulaz glanced up and shrugged.  “I didn’t want to say.”

Shiro looked down at the table, eyes closed.  His claws left furrows in the woods.  “No less than the truth.  Alright, say someone made that leap of logic.  You think it was the Druids?”

Considering, Ulaz shook his head.  “Not just any one.  They’re powerful, but I don’t think they’re strong enough to do this.  Princess Allura is known to be powerful in terms of magic.  There would need to be a power imbalance for it to work in the first place.”

“Which existed, from my actions.”

“Yes,” Ulaz agreed.  “But even so, they’d need to be powerful in their own right.  That’s an advantage, not a rule.  Otherwise, every magic user in the world would just engineer a perceived slight to win any duel.  It could make the difference in an otherwise close battle, though.”

Shiro frowned.  “But it could only be Haggar, then.”

“Yes.”

Sighing, Shiro shook his head.  “No.  The others thought as much, but I know Haggar.  I spent a year with her.  These weren’t her actions.  She’s blunt.  Cruel.  I’ve never known her to use the cat’s paw approach, literally or no.”

Ulaz frowned at him.  “Haggar is well known for using subterfuge in her battles.”

“So Zarkon claimed.  I’ve never seen it.  It sounds good on paper though, doesn’t it?”  Shiro gave him a thin smile.  “I don’t know that everything you’ve read from them has been completely accurate.”

Irritation rose in Ulaz, sudden and swift.  No, he was a complete idiot and believed everything he saw in the papers, thank you so much.

Taking a deep breath, Ulaz reminded himself that Shiro thought he was a simple country Galra with an interest in learning but not much experience outside his towns.

It didn’t really help.  Even if Shiro had a point, he didn’t like the superiority of the tone.

Which contributed to Ulaz’ response.

“You said you don’t remember all of it,” Ulaz replied, sharper than it needed to be.  “So would you really know?”

Shiro frowned.  “I remember enough to know what Haggar’s like.  I have every reason to want to think it’s her, but I just don’t think it is.”

How to get a hint through his head?  Ulaz ground his teeth and huffed.  “Your experience may not be typical, you know.  You weren’t the average captive, Takashi Shirogane.”

Shiro drew back at the use of his full name, eyes wide.  “You- How do you know that?”

“I’m more informed than you think, and you were a very wanted man for a long time,” Ulaz replied sharply.  “Besides, not every prisoner comes away with something like that.”  He gestured to Shiro’s metal arm.

Drawing it away, Shiro bristled.  The effect made him seem even larger than he was.  “I think, in this, I know better,” he managed, snapping out the words.

The irritation rose and crested, and Ulaz snorted in his face.  “No, you don’t.  You  _ really _ don’t.  Trust me on that.”

Well.  So much for years of being a spy.

But Shiro finally seemed to actually listen.  “Why don’t I?” He asked, voice slow and careful.

And upset.

Ulaz could lie and try to come up with a reason.  Could cast himself as some small position close enough to the Druids to know what they did, to have seen Haggar in all her nasty glory.

But he chose not to.

Because Ulaz wanted Shiro to  _ remember him. _

“I’m an engineer,” he told Shiro.  “Before I lived in a small border town, I built that.”  He gestured toward his arm.

He’d meant to say more, to say that he’d also been the one to free Shiro.  That he’d been the one to give him the directions to get to the Blade of Marmora outpost, and from there to return to his princess.

But Ulaz paused, because he had hope.  He thought that if he just let Shiro know that they’d met before, that they’d been in the same circles that it would finally click.

Instead, Ulaz looked into Shiro’s eyes and saw  _ hate. _

“You...”  The metal paw tensed against the table, driving silver claws into the wood like it was made of tissue paper.  “You made- You’re one of  _ them?” _

The sheer force of the reaction - oh, of course he reacted like this, he was an  _ idiot _ \- made Ulaz rear back.  “No.  Shiro, no, it was never like that.  It was just the mission, and I-”

Pushing himself up, Shiro bared all his sharp teeth.  “Get out.”

“No, listen, it’s not what-”

_ “GET OUT!  LEAVE!” _

The shout turned into a roar at the end, echoing through the huge room.  The table under Shiro cracked, the noise terrifyingly loud.

Ulaz held up his hands, even as he backpedaled away.  A beast like that... Shiro was formidable as a human.  Now he had the bulk to back it up.  “Shiro, wait, you don’t understand.  The Blade-”

This time, the answer was a completely inhuman roar, without any hint of words.  He jumped off the ruined table to land in front of Ulaz, crouched dangerously.  His eyes began to glow yellow, more like a Galra than the human-like pupil and iris of before, and his arm glowed.

It was unmistakably deadly intent.

If Ulaz wasn’t sure the sorceress was Haggar, he might have been sympathetic.

Explaining was out of the question.  So Ulaz turned on his heel and ran.

There was no place in the castle that he could feel properly safe anymore.  This was his domain and his team, and Ulaz didn’t trust that they wouldn’t have the same reaction when they heard what he’d said to Shiro.

Maybe Ulaz should have mentioned being a Blade before.  Now it would only sound like an excuse, assuming anyone actually listened to him.

Or, better yet, Ulaz should have kept his impulses to himself, swallowed his damn pride, and worked on it around Shiro until he had proof.

Either way, it wasn’t safe to stay here, verbal contract or no.  So Ulaz grabbed the coat that fit him and headed to the front door.

“Ulaz?” Hunk called, looking over from where the fireplace roared.  He was was a safe distance away, probably all too aware of what open flames would do to a wooden clock.  “Where are you going. It’s dark and freezing out there.”

“I can’t stay,” he replied shortly.  Then he ignored Hunk’s protests, and the thumping sound of Keith’s metal feet coming down the stairs behind him.

“You don’t understand!” Hunk called.  “You can’t leave.”  When there no response, he groaned.  “No, Ulaz, you literally-”

Bracing himself, Ulaz stepped out into the cold.

Ulaz already knew that Antok had taken Gunther back to the village, so he didn’t even bother to stop by the stable.  Instead he burst past the front gates and ran into the forest.  He’d taken a path here, after all, so there had to be something that lead back to the village.  Shiro couldn’t seem to leave, and he certainly couldn’t chase Ulaz down all the way there.  He’d be upset, but it was limited damage.

This had all been so stupid.

Ulaz had just wanted to be remembered.

This was exactly the kind of sentiment that Kolivan always scolded him for.  Maybe he had a point.

Pulling the coat up higher, and trying to ignore who it reminded him of, Ulaz followed the winding breaks in the trees.

Was this the path? All the snowfall was making it difficult to follow, and it seemed to wind wildly through the forest.  What direction had he even started from?  Ulaz thought the was facing south, but it was difficult to get his bearings.  The woods were thick, the ground was covered, the wind seemed to change the landscape constantly.

This had, perhaps, been a bad idea.  Ulaz could have locked himself in a room until Shiro calmed down.  He was angry, but he wasn’t unreasonable, not usually.  He likely would have told Ulaz he could stay until the storm died down and the sun rose.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have.  Maybe Shiro had told Ulaz to leave, knowing full well what the weather was like outside.  Maybe the choice had been freezing to death or fighting to the death.

Ulaz had made the right choice, in that case.  He was an accomplished fighter himself, but a huge beast with a magical limb and human level intelligence wasn’t an opponent to take lightly.

A new noise made Ulaz freeze.  It sounded like footsteps on dead wood.  His ear twitched and he turned, but he couldn’t see anything.

There were many animals that inhabited these woods.  Ulaz had been made keenly aware of them while they lived in the village, though mostly out of irritation than fear.  They steered clear of Galra villages, quickly learning it was a fight they wouldn’t like.  More often, creatures like wolves tried to attack livestock, and more than once Ulaz had lost a chicken to their teeth.

He hadn’t ever taken them seriously as a threat, though.

Not until now.

Spinning in place, Ulaz braced himself and held his hands up. These wolves would find out why it wasn’t wise to fight a Galra.  Even in these terrible conditions, with numbers and weather against him, he could certainly do enough damage to make them regret the conflict.

The first wolf lunged from behind.

Ulaz’ ears perked, then he ducked and twisted, swiping the wolf from below.  It landed with a cry, but the ground was soft and the creature was agile.  It was on it’s feet in a moment, growling and baring his teeth at Ulaz.

While he focused on it, another burst out and went for his leg.

Ulaz scrambled out of the way, kicking hard.  He managed a glancing blow at an ear, which made the wolf back off immediately, but then he had to scramble to get out of the way of the first returning.  He heard more footsteps around him now, more growls adding to the noise in the air.

Five or six at least.  And that might not be all of them yet.

And as winter grew worse, they were probably very hungry.

Ulaz pushed off the ground, trying to run for a tree.  But when he grabbed onto a branch, it snapped under his grip, too cold to support the weight.  A snarl announced another attack, and Ulaz swung the frozen branch, striking the beast, but another caught him on the side, sending him tumbling.

Then there was another rumble.  This one was much louder and deeper.  Bigger.

It was also familiar.

Looking over, Ulaz saw yellow eyes and a glowing purple paw in the gloom. 

Then Shiro struck.

Ulaz curled up on himself, bracing for the blow, but instead a weight came off Ulaz’ leg.  Blood flowed freely from the wound, but now the wolf was a solid fifteen feet away and whimpering.  One of its legs looked damaged, and Ulaz’ sharp nose could pick up the smell of burning fur.

More of the wolves attacked, but Shiro was made for this fight in a way that Ulaz simply wasn’t.  

Beasts clashed, grey fur twisting next to black.  Where the wolves had numbers and fangs and claws, Shiro had a weapon that was unmatched to anything they could have brought.

It was over in minutes.  Shiro stood over the body of one wolf that would never rise again, dark fur shining glossy in what little moonlight showed through the clouds, eyes bright and grey again.  He looked regal.

He looked like a judge, gazing down on Ulaz and deciding if he lived or died.

But in the end, Shiro was himself, and not the Champion Haggar had tried to make of him.

In the end, Shiro had saved himself that fate, even if it was Ulaz who had undone his chains.

The paw stopped glowing, becoming simple metal again.  “Do you need help to walk?” He asked.

Ulaz tried to stand, but his leg immediately gave out.  When he looked down, he realized the wound was more significant than he’d thought during the fight.  The heat of battle and the need for survival had kept him from feeling pain, but he had lost a lot of blood.

“Yes,” Ulaz admitted, voice quiet.

Silently, Shiro stepped over and offered his shoulder.

Ulaz stood, shaking under the strain.  He took a few steps, but each was agony.  After a few moments, his sight started to fade.  

There was a brief sensation of warmth and fur against him, and Ulaz wondered if Shiro had managed to wrap the coat around him better.

But then they were moving, and Ulaz couldn’t think anymore.

Instead, he slept.


	4. Chapter 4

When Ulaz woke, it was not in the dungeon or the tower or the cold ground.

It was on a couch in front of the fireplace, with the coat thrown over his shoulders and his leg wrapped.

He didn’t stir, and so no one was aware he was awake quite yet.

Ulaz wasn’t alone.

“He tried to tell me,” Shiro murmured, tone mournful.  He had the same tone as when he spoke of the sorceress - guilt.

There was a snort, and Ulaz was fairly sure it was Pidge.  “After he told you he worked with the druid and made your arm.  Little late.  Coulda worked on that order.”

Ulaz agreed.

“I hate to ask,” Sam said, “But are we certain he’s what he says he is?”

“We weren’t going to leave him to be eaten by wolves,” Lance replied.  

Sam made an affronted sound, and Ulaz heard his top open to let off steam.  “I’m not suggesting anyone should!  But I wasn’t there for most of this Blade back and forth.”

“Agreed.  Me and Dad need some catch up here.  I get what the Blade are, but why do we believe them?  They’re not exactly unknown anymore now, right?”

“No,” Allura disagreed.  “They’re known.  But the name of the organization isn’t.  The involvement of an inside group was known before the confrontation with Zarkon, but the details never leaked.  If he knows to drop the name, either he’s far more dangerous than we thought, or he’s telling the truth.”

“That’s a comforting way of putting it,” Hunk muttered.  “But I think he’s okay.  He’s just tried to help.  And there had to be a Blade in the druids.  Otherwise Shiro would have never gotten away from them.  They never told you who?”

There was a pause where Shiro probably shook his head.  “No.  They said the operative had already been compromised and fled.  Judging from the tone, I didn’t think it was under good circumstances.”

Certainly not.  Ulaz was lucky he’d gone out of that with all his limbs.

Guilt followed immediately after the thought.  Not everyone had.  

Curling on himself, Ulaz took a deep breath.

Immediately, there were footsteps.  “Are you awake?” Shiro demanded.

“For a few moments,” Ulaz replied. “Enough to catch your last comment.  Give me a moment.”  He finally opened his eyes and sat up.  Glancing at a window, Ulaz noted that it had to be approaching dawn.  There was a haze outside that suggested light, even if the storm was still blowing loudly enough to be heard through stone.  “You seem to have connected some of the dots.”

Shiro sat in front of him, legs folded cat-like, and his tail lashed.  “Maybe.  Why don’t you explain?”  But when Ulaz shifted, his eyes snapped to Ulaz’ injured legs, and his ears flattened.  “It can wait if you’re in pain.”

“I will likely be in pain for a few days,” Ulaz pointed out flatly.

“He means too much pain to talk,” Pidge replied.  “I’d really like to hear you start talking, if you don’t mind.”

Ulaz nodded slowly.  “Due to my skills as an engineer, I was placed to work with the Druids.  Over the past several years, their need for machining and building has grown.  You’ve seen the results of that, I’m sure.  Weapons to steal magical energies, to kill, to replace limbs, to create weapons out of living things... all monstrous, of course.  It came from Haggar.  But, well...”

“It was better to know,” Hunk agreed, nodding.  “It would happen with someone else.”

Ulaz closed his eyes.  “Yes, exactly.  I passed on news of Haggar’s projects when I could.  For the most part, everything she wanted took years, so it was just a matter of not making waves.  I didn’t have to sabotage.  I wasn’t supposed to.  They didn’t want to lose me there.”  He glanced up, meeting Shiro’s gaze.  “Then you arrived.”

The gaze held for a few long moments, enough that Shiro’s friends began to shift uncomfortably.  “I don’t understand,” Shiro replied.  “What changed when I came?”

“I did,” Ulaz replied.  “Kolivan would say I’ve always been impulsive.  I proved that today.  But you were... There had been other living things I assisted with.  Mostly animals.  Mostly things I was able to close my eyes to. Not you.  You overcame, and you struggled, and you refused to bend as much as you could, even when you should have broken.  I... I came to admire you very much.  So I set you free.  Against Kolivan’s orders.”

There were words from the others - comments that Kolivan had been willing to let Shiro die, though of course he had been, satisfaction that they’d connected the dots better, questions about Ulaz’ position - but he only had eyes and ears for Shiro.

Shiro, who stared at him, his feline face so hard to read.

“You saved me,” Shiro finally said, and there was a vulnerability that made Ulaz ache.  “You freed me.  And you were hurt for it, weren’t you?”

Ulaz cracked a smile.  “Haggar didn’t take well to the theft.  She was always strange with you.  You vexed her in a way few others did.”

Nodding, Shiro took a deep breath.  “Which is what you were trying to convey before.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to you?” Lance asked, hopping closer. 

Ulaz shrugged.  “I ran.  The Druids attempted to capture me.  But I had defenses and plans in place in case I was ever compromised.  They involved liberal uses of explosions.”  Ulaz smiled, and from the way Keith’s head picked up, Ulaz suspected he’d won at least some form of admiration with that.  “But I had to use them too close to myself.  One created a wound that kept me from running.  I had to lay low for a few days. The blood loss nearly killed me.”  He glanced down at his leg, frowning.  “Apparently a theme.  By the time I got to a base, I was quite ill.  So Kolivan sent myself and Antok to a border town to recover and to watch for retaliation by Haggar or Lotor.”

“And the quiet has been driving you slowly out of your head,” Shiro replied, and his tone was nearly fond.

Smiling back, Ulaz inclined his head.  “Yes.”

“It all checks out,” Keith replied.  “I’d say we’d just ask, but we can’t exactly do that.  But he’s dropping names we know that matches up with things they’ve said, and he knows the name.”

“Well, good enough for me,” Matt said easily.  He gave a tiny jerking motion with the handle toward his face, like he was trying to give a sarcastic salute.  “Glad to keep you on board.  We were going to miss someone with hands.”

“Hands,” Pidge sighed, in the same tone she’d spoken of the cookies.  “I miss thumbs.”

Shiro wilted, eyes locking onto her.  It seemed the night had gone a lot to damage his spirit, for him to take something said so lightly so much to heart.

“Well, hopefully we can continue to work on this,” Ulaz replied.  “Even if my freedom was at stake, I seem to owe you my life.”

Head snapping up, Shiro shook his head.  “Of course not.  I was the one that forced you out into the cold in the first place after threatening you.  And you saved my life first.”

“Why don’t you two call it even,” Sam interjected smoothly.  “And while you’re at it, you should both call it a night.”

“Agreed,” Hunk replied, giving them a smile.  “You can take my word on that.”

Ulaz snorted at the joke, and Shiro gave a dry chuckle.  “Stay by the fire,” he told Ulaz, worded like an order but spoken too softly to be taken as one.  “You’ll recover better.  By the time I got you back, you were deeply chilled.”

Considering him, Ulaz reached out and ran his claws through Shiro’s mane.  He stilled at the touch, eyes wide, and Ulaz drew back quickly.  “Damp.  You should as well.  You’ll be ill.”

For a moment, Ulaz thought he’d gone too far with the tentative return to peace.  But then Shiro huffed and nodded.  “You have a point.”  He moved closer and then flopped down, spread huge and liquid on the floor in front of the fire.  His eyes closed into pleased crescents as he relaxed, the toes of his paws stretching out comfortably.  “This is better.”

“Alright, I think that’s our cue,” Sam replied.  “Have a good night, both of you.”

Matt huffed.  “Aww, I was going to stand creepy vigil all night rather than go lie down somewhere comfortable like a reasonable person.  Way to ruin my plans, Dad.”

There was a low creaking noise from Keith, then he reached down and picked Matt up.  “Your room?”

“I object to this treatment,” Matt informed him.  But then he paused.  “Actually, I take it back, carry me everywhere.  This is way easier.”

“I could use a ride too,” Pidge offered.

“Same,” Lance added.

While Keith fended off having to carry half of the castle’s inhabitants up to their rooms, Ulaz moved so half his head hung over the edge of the couch, watching Shiro get comfortable. It was a quiet moment, once everyone was gone.

But curiosity pulled at him, as always.  

So Ulaz spoke.  “I am sorry for the part I played in your suffering.  Will you be alright?”

Shiro picked up his head, glancing back at Ulaz.  “You freed me, you said.”

“That doesn’t erase the harm I did.”  His eyes tracked to the metal paw, which seemed to glow warmly in the light of the fire.

Shiro considered him, then flopped his head back down, facing away again.  “No, it doesn’t.  But you weren’t willing, and you fought Kolivan for me.  I’ve met him, so I know that’s not an easy feat.”  There was a smile to his voice, and Ulaz’ lips pulled up in response.  “I understand why you did it.  I can look past it.”

“How?” Ulaz asked, voice raw.  He didn’t understand.  In a theoretical sense, maybe, but he’d hurt Shiro, given him something that caused him grief, both physically and psychologically.  He should still hate Ulaz, no matter how rational his actions had been.

But Shiro just twitched the edge of his tail.  “Because I know you now.”

He said it simply, calmly.  As if it were as obvious as the weather.

Ulaz closed his eyes against a sudden swell of emotion.

“I know you as well,” Ulaz replied, voice rough.  “It makes my regret stronger.  I wish I could have done more for you.”

“You gave me my life.  You gave me my freedom.”

“It was gone soon enough after.”

Shiro went silent at that, and Ulaz knew he’s struck a blow with it.  Before he could apologize, Shiro sighed.  “This is a captivity I chose.  It’s different from that.  It’s the best thing I can do in the situation.”  The tail twitched again.  “I know you understand that.”

Ulaz did.  He was living it.  “That doesn’t make you happy, though.”

“No.  It doesn’t.”

Shiro didn’t say anything else, and Ulaz didn’t try to continue the conversation.  Instead, he focused on the heat of the fire and how the light danced over Shiro’s dark, glossy fur.

And he thought about the tight feeling in his chest, and the pain he couldn’t breathe past.  At first, Ulaz feared he’d caught something from the wet and cold.  But eventually he realized it wasn’t a physical wound. 

He ached for Shiro, who had struggled to take on something he hadn’t wanted, when his purpose ended.  Who finally accepted help, only for it to turn sour in one terrible night.

Ulaz hurt more for him than his own captivity.

Guilt, in part.

But something else as well.

***

Routine continued, though with a new, awkward wound between them.

Still, Ulaz found he preferred it.  For all the truth had hurt them, now he no longer had to play at half-truths and outright lies.  When he had a thought or knew something, he could just share it without justifying the knowledge.

Even with Antok in the village, Ulaz hadn’t felt this relaxed.  There was always the chance of being overheard or interrupted, especially with Sendak skulking around.

Sendak.  

Ulaz hadn’t thought about him in weeks and hadn’t worried about his advances or skulking.

Good.  He hadn’t deserved Ulaz’ attention in the first place, even in such a negative way.  But hopefully he wasn’t giving Antok a hard time after his disappearance.  Antok was formidable, but Sendak was a former Commander and certainly no slouch in a fight.  If he had gotten it in his head to be a bother...

No, likely Antok hadn’t even stayed at the village after.  He’d probably moved on to another safehouse after they were both compromised.  He’d likely also contacted the Blade, who were probably slowly planning a rescue attempt.

Well, good luck with that.  Whatever the magic had done protected them as well, thank god.

“Why did Haggar do that?” Ulaz wondered suddenly, looking up from his reading.

Hunk paused and glanced over.  “Do what?”  He had the contents of one of the other clocks out in front of him, a display that was nearly macabre, but didn’t seem to bother him.  At least, like most of the objects, it wasn’t a transformed inhabitant.

“Protect the castle.”  Leaning back in his chair, Ulaz tilted his head back and regarded the living room ceiling instead.  “Why would she keep herself from being able to find it?  The Altean army I understand, but if this was strategic, wouldn’t she want to be able to get back?”

There was a quiet chuckle, and Ulaz picked his head up to look at Allura.  Her flowers seemed to bloom wider as she smirked.  “She didn’t.  I did.”

Ulaz sat up straighter and turned to look at her.  “How?”

“You know I have magic,” Allura replied.  “I couldn’t counter the spell, not when it had a basis in certain properties.  But I could work alongside it to alter it.  The humans have a story they tell about a woman named Sleeping Beauty. It’s a similar idea.”  

“Allura was reading fairy tales to pass the time,” Hunk told him, tone conspiratorial.

To Ulaz’ amusement, there was distinctly red tint to Allura’s vase.  “Yes, well, they were distracting reads.”  Then she nodded to Ulaz.  “There was already an element that would keep someone like my father from finding us and helping.  So since I couldn’t break it, I made it apply to her, too.”

“Very clever,” Ulaz replied, open admiration in his tone.  It was a solution he wouldn’t have thought of, especially taking inspiration from something as silly as a children’s story.

Allura shrugged the edges of her vase, but her gaze was less chilly than it had been before.  “Yes, well, I should be able to do something other than sit around and hold flowers.”

“Hear hear,” Hunk sighed, nudging one of the pieces.

Ulaz inclined his head to them.  “I imagine it gets dull very quickly.  I admit, this castle didn’t have much of a luster to me to begin with, considering the circumstances.”

“Guess it wouldn’t,” Hunk replied.  “It was cool at first, until we realized getting out wasn’t happening.  We lost Keith to the woods for a few days, once.  Helps that he’s the most mobile.”  He glanced sideways at Allura.  “We try not to make too much of a fuss, though.  There’s no helping it.”

“Right,” Allura agreed, tone stronger and outright royal.  “No sense fussing over what can’t be fixed.  We move on and we make ourselves useful.  Hunk more so than just about everyone.”

Coloring, Hunk ducked his head down, picking up a gear and slotting it back into the frame.  “That’s very nice of you to say.  Coran does most of the work, honestly.”

“You do more than your fair share, certainly.  Cooking and fixing and organizing.”  Allura’s gaze was proud, but also sympathetic.  “I’d just like to remind you that you’re appreciated.”

Hunk still didn’t look up, but Ulaz could hear his alarm starting to ring out.  After a moment, he reached up and pressed it down, quieting it.  “It’s better than staying still.”

Allura sighed in understanding.  “Even so.”

Glancing back and forth between them, Ulaz’ stomach twisted.

This was less a castle and more a prison, just a nicely decorated and maintained one.

Shaking off the morbid thoughts, he stood.  “I need to grab a different book. Thank you for explaining that to me.  It helps quite a lot.”

“No problem at all,” Allura replied, and Ulaz got the impression she meant it.

On one hand, the growing acceptance of him as part of the group was a relief.

On the other, it meant that Ulaz had been here for far too long.

Skin prickling, he headed to the library.

***

Later that evening, Ulaz found himself wandering the corridors.  The castle felt smaller after his discussion with Hunk and the Princess, and sleep eluded him.

A low noise made him pause, and Ulaz frowned, unsure what it was.  It didn’t sound like any of the transformed inhabitants.  If anything, it sounded like distant thunder.

Continuing down the hall, Ulaz kept his ears perked.  Eventually he turned down another corridor, and the noise happened again, this time more clearly.

Not thunder but a groan.  A beastial one.

Shiro.  And he sounded pained.

Picking up speed, Ulaz ran down the hall and paused outside a door with light spilling out under it.

It occurred to him that Ulaz had never been into this section of the castle.  Despite his explorations, he’d somehow missed this, although he’d probably walked by it several dozen times.

Magic, likely.  Maybe part of what protected the castle, or part of Haggar’s curse.  Ulaz hadn’t been able to break through when he’d only been walking past, but he had when he was following Shiro’s cries.

Shrugging off the thoughts, Ulaz pushed the door open.  A set of candles burned on the bedside table, nearly all the way out.  Shiro must have had them on while he got ready for bed, and then fallen asleep before he’d blown them out.

Rather than sleep under the covers, Shiro was sprawled over them, curled in a way that wouldn’t have been possible with a human spine.  His claws were out and his teeth were bared as he shifted and groaned.  Already, the blankets were a mess of tears and burns, probably from similar situations on other days.

It made Ulaz’ chest clench again.  He was getting sick of the sensation, to be honest.

“Shiro?” He called, voice careful.  There was no sense in startling him awake and getting ripped open for his troubles.  “Shiro, it’s a dream.  You need to wake.”

There was no response but more groans, and then a furious noise like a whispered attempt at a roar.

Taking a few tentative steps closer, Ulaz took a deep breath.  “Shiro!”

The bark did its job.  Shiro jolted upright, his claws spearing into the bed as he roared with alarm.  He looked around, eyes blank and glazed, not seeming to register his bedroom at all.

“Shiro,” Ulaz repeated, gentler now that he was being heard.  “It’s alright.  This is your bedroom in your castle.  You’re safe here.”

He continued to repeat the words, and ones similar, until Shiro began to breathe evenly and his eyes focused properly.  “I’m sorry,” Shiro murmured, shaking his head.  “Did I disturb you?”

“I was wandering,” Ulaz replied.  “You gave me a destination I wanted to go to.  I’m grateful.”  He sat down on the foot of Shiro’s bed.  “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Shiro replied, and neither of them commented on the obvious lie.  “Thank you.  For talking to me when I was out of it.  It makes it easier.”

Ulaz nodded.  “Then I would happily do it as many times as you asked.”

Swallowing hard, Shiro stared at him.  He looked like Ulaz had tried to shake him.

“Is something wrong?” Ulaz asked carefully.  “I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

That seemed to shake Shiro out of his daze.  “No, no offense.  Just... it’s a nice thing to say.  Thank you.”  

Ulaz smiled back gently.  “I meant it literally.”

Before Shiro could reply to that, the light dimmed.  Looking over, Shiro saw the nearly burnt out candles and sighed.  “Ah, I forgot again.”

“This happens often?”

“Occasionally.  Sam tells me it’s a fire hazard.  I told him it’s a stone castle.”

Ulaz eyed him.  “Your bed is made of fabric, and  _ you _ are made of hair and flesh.  Both of which will catch fire.”

Glancing over, Shiro snorted.  “I can think of worse ways to die.”

While Ulaz was processing that - it was a joke, but not a funny one - the next candle went out, and the other a moment later, leaving them in total darkness.

Or, what should have been darkness.  Instead, there was a faint glow from the balcony doors.

Ulaz turned to look at them, curious.  He’d think it was moonlight, except he didn’t think the moon was pink at last glance.  “What’s that?”

Following his gaze, Shiro froze.  “That-”  His voice gave out, and he looked to Ulaz instead.  “Um.”

...Interesting reaction.

Standing, Ulaz made his way over.  “I’ll just take a look.”

Behind him, he heard Shiro scrambling off of the bed, but there was no shout or objection, so he turned the knobs and pushed the doors open.

On the balcony was a pedestal with a glass case.

In that case was a single rose.  It was just past its best days, by the looks of it.  The bloom had begun to sag, and some of the petals were curling down threateningly.  Two were already on the bottom of the case, glowing a gentle pink.

It was lovely, and it was clearly, deeply magical.

“This,” Ulaz said carefully.  “Would have been  _ very _ helpful in researching the curse.”  All this time, he’d assumed they would have told him if there was a known, visible object of power to anchor the curse.  He’d assumed someone would have  _ mentioned _ it.  And if they hadn’t known, he thought his wanderings and explorations would turn up something.

And here it was, where Shiro could look at it every night.

Turning, he raised his brows.  “Do you have a reason for keeping this from me?”

“Yes,” Shiro admitted, voice rough.  “I”m sorry.  We shouldn’t have let you keep researching like this.  But we really were looking for ways to break the curse.  Just not the traditional one.”  He took a deep breath. “Telling you about it would have defeated the purpose.  You couldn’t break it if you knew.”

Baffled, Ulaz looked at the rose.  As he watched, it seemed to wilt just a hair further, like it was responding to Shiro’s dark mood.  Then he shook his head.  “I don’t understand.”

“I know how to break the curse,” Shiro replied, voice small.  “When someone learns to love a beast, it’ll be broken.  Romantic love.  Familial doesn’t work, or else it’d be broken by now.  My team is family to me.  So that’s why we couldn’t tell you.  If you wanted to break the curse, we couldn’t tell you outright.  Then everything about it would be... artificial.  You’d be thinking about it the whole time.  Every interaction would be weighed and measured.  ‘Is Shiro trying to make me fall for him?’ ‘Is this an attempt at romance, or is he just being friendly?’  I couldn’t- You were determined, so we decided to give it a shot and see what happened.”  He let out a laugh.  “You’ve been great.  You’ve been  _ wonderful, _ with a minor exception for something from the past.  Oh, and the lying.  But... Who could ever learn to love such a beast, after all?”

A petal fell.

Ulaz stepped forward.  “You were manipulating me.”

Head ducking, Shiro nodded.  “I was trying not to.  But yes, in the end.”

“You were-”  

Shiro was right.  Every interaction was suspect, now.  Was the forgiveness real, or was it that he was Shiro’s chance at freedom again?  Had those moments of kindness and connection been genuine, or had they been acts to gain Ulaz’ affection?

There was an ulterior motive Ulaz had been completely ignorant of.  Him alone, as everyone else in the castle worked to help Ulaz study how to break a curse they all already knew.

He was a fool.

Taking a deep breath, Ulaz stepped away.

Shiro didn’t look surprised at all, but his eyes were still pained.

Ulaz had given Shiro his freedom, once. He’d owned him that and more after what Shiro had suffered.

But he didn’t owe him this.  Ulaz owed  _ no one _ this.  Not Sendak, not Shiro, not anyway.

“I will need to think about this.”

“I understand,” Shiro replied.  “You’re free to go.  For the record.  I can’t- I won’t make you stay.  I should never have in the first place.  I was scared for Allura, but it wasn’t right.  We know we can trust you.”

Ulaz gave him a flat look.  “I cannot leave.  The enchantment-”

“Applies to us,” Shiro interrupted, closing his eyes and slumping.  “You already got farther than anyone else before you were attacked by wolves.  Wait for the morning sun and try it.  If it doesn’t work, you’ll find your way back to the castle anyway and we’ll find a way.”  He took a deep breath.  “I’m so sorry.”

Ulaz looked at Shiro and wanted to ease his pain.  Wanted to accept his apology, wanted to reach out and hold him.

But he couldn’t.  Not right now.  Maybe not at all.

“I’ll leave tomorrow, then,” Ulaz agreed.  He turned on his heel and started back into Shiro’s room.

“Wait!”  Pausing, Ulaz glanced back over.  Shiro snatched something off his bedside table and handed it over.

A mirror.  A small one, ornate and cool to the touch.  When Ulaz looked into it, he saw his own face, haggard and unhappy.

The expression matched Shiro’s.  “Take this.  It’ll keep you for the night.  You can use this to find where Antok’s gone and join him.  Just say his name and you’ll see where he is.  With your skills, that’ll be enough to track him down.”

Flattery or sincerity?  A search for forgiveness or affection?  Manipulation or honesty?

Ulaz couldn’t tell the difference.

Thus was the life of a spy.  Even now he couldn’t escape it.

“Antok,” he called, to test it.

The mirror lit, bright enough to be painful in the darkness of Shiro’s room.  Then it showed an image, rather than a reflection, lit as though from behind.

It showed Antok in chains, his tail - so much like Shiro’s, what an odd thought - twitching at the tip and eyes bright with fury.

Behind him was Sendak, hand held high as he ranted to a crowd of villagers.  There was no sounds, so it took Ulaz several moments to realize what they were chanting.

_ Traitor!  Veprit Sa!  Traitor!  Veprit Sa!  _

“No!”  Ulaz stared at the mirror in horror.  What was Antok still  _ doing _ there?  He should have left weeks ago.

Unless he’d stayed to try and recover Ulaz.

Oh no.

Shiro’s breath caught, and when he looked over, his gaze hardened.  “You need to go.”

“I can’t,” Ulaz shot back. “It’s the middle of the night, and the forest- the wolves!”

Drawing himself up, Shiro shook his head.  “I’ll take you as far as I can.  You’ll be near the path, then.  After that, it’s not far to your village.”

Ulaz stared at Shiro, then nodded in determination.  “Thank you.”

“Go get your things.  I’ll meet you at the front door.”  With that, Shiro slipped out of the room, and Ulaz heard his claws against the stone floor as he ran.

Glancing back at the rose, Ulaz gave himself a moment to sigh and feel bitter.

Then he ran.  There was no time to waste.

No Galra town suffered traitors lightly.

***

The night was cold and dark, but thankfully not stormy like Ulaz’ first attempt to flee.  This time, they remained unbothered by the beasts of the forest.

It seemed they knew better than to bother the beast of the castle.

Shiro paused suddenly, eyes bright and ears perked.  A fully body shudder ran through him, setting all his fur standing up.  “This is the edge.  I can’t go past here without feeling like I need to go another direction.  The path should be close.”

Good.  If Ulaz wasn’t mistaken, and if magic didn’t affect the location more than he thought, then they should be close to the border of the countries as well.  “Thank you,” he repeated softly.  “I appreciate your help.” He dug into his bag and pulled out the mirror.  “You should have this back.”

Giving him a sad smile, Shiro shook his head.  “Keep it.  At this point, it’s only a tease.  I’d rather it be in your hands.”

It was on the tip of Ulaz’ tongue to protest.  Surely the others in the castle would appreciate it, and Ulaz could leave. They couldn’t.

But instead, he swallowed and held on tightly.

He’d wanted to know he could trust Shiro’s gesture, when there was always an ulterior motive to them.

But here Ulaz was, spitting in the face of that, rejecting him for the possibility.  And he was still giving away his window to freedom with nothing but a smile.

Something in Ulaz’ chest cracked.  He suspected that up on Shiro’s balcony, the rose had lost another petal.

“Thank you.”

Turning, Ulaz walked away.

He glanced back only once before he found the path.  He found Shiro still sitting in place, nearly blended with the shadows of the forest.  Only the gleam off his metal paw gave him away.

Then Ulaz stepped forward, and his foot hit packed dirt instead of overgrown grass and dead plant matter.

The path.

Ulaz ran.


	5. Chapter 5

_ “How are you two doing?” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “Neither of you have interrupted for a while.  You okay?” _

_ “I’m good, yeah.  Uh... Oh.  I think Pidge is asleep.” _

_ “Aww, my bedtime stories still knock her out.  Cute.  How bout you, need me to call it for the night?” _

_ “No, I’m enjoying it.  It’s stopped sounding like us, honestly.” _

_ “You insulting my characterization?” _

_ “A little.” _

_ “It’s an alternate universe, it’s allowed.  Settle back down and let the magic happen.” _

_ “Mmm.” _

_ “Yeah, you’re wide awake, right?  Alright, where was I?” _

***

It was difficult to follow the path, even in the bright moonlight.  He wasn’t as familiar with this area as the one closer to the village, and Ulaz found himself pausing often, double checking that he was still on packed dirt.

Once he crossed the border it became easier, and Ulaz set off at a sprint, heart pounding in his chest.  This was taking so long, and Sendak had already been working the village into a fever pitch.  What if-

Ulaz’ ears twitched as a sound floated by on the wind.

Yelling.  Chanting.  But no cheers yet, nothing like Ulaz would expect when a traitor had been killed in front of the group.

He still had time.

Taking a deep breath, he ran harder.

"-cannot trust the word of a traitor!" Sendak called, voice commanding, the tone expected of a military leader.  His words rang clearly over the rest of the crowd as Ulaz ran into the city.  "He killed his own friend and came up with this ridiculous story about a beast.  We cannot believe anything he says!"

The furious cries rose in response, and Ulaz skittered to a halt right behind the crowd.  Sendak had taken over the square, surrounded by angry villagers, some of whom were literally wielding pitchforks and torches.  Haxus hovered by Sendak's side, expression carefully blank, and Antok was on his knees before him, hold down by Sendak's artificial arm.

The one that Ulaz had designed.

That was a bitter pill to swallow.  Just another way that job had been the worst thing that had happened to Ulaz.

(But it had also given him more back than any other, and he didn't know what to do with that.  Not yet.)

Ulaz considered running back to their cottage and trying to grab a weapon, or doing something sneaky and befitting a blade.

But screw it.  Not only was this awful to watch, it was annoying to see.  Sendak's manners screamed of someone who was only a leader in intimidation rather than skill.  Kolivan had always been a counter example, but now Ulaz had more and it annoyed him like a loose tooth.

"What's going on here?" He called.

The crowd went silent at his words.  Ulaz stepped forward and they parted away, stunned.

Brow furrowed, he looked around them, then up at Sendak, demanding answers.

"You're alive?" Sendak called, eyes wide.  His grip faltered and Antok started to push up, but Sendak pushed him back down.  Next to him, Haxus looked even more stoney, and Ulaz suspected he hadn't liked this plan in the first place.

Antok growled, his tail thumping angrily against the ground.  "I told you, he was captured."

Bearing his teeth, Sendak huffed.  "You said he was being held by a beast!"

"I was," Ulaz replied, brows up.  He met Antok's eyes, trying to ask 'what the hell are you doing here?' without words, but he just got a steady gaze back.

Antok wasn't going to leave him.

Was anyone in their organization free of attachments like they were supposed to be?  Maybe Kolivan.

"What's all this about being a traitor?" Ulaz continued, pressing forward.  "He was telling the truth."

"You can't expect us to believe this nonsense," Haxus finally spoke, voice thin.  Seemed he was in too deep, so now he had to continue on.  "We found Antok's coded message, and this story is nonsense.  A magic castle?  Surely someone would have noticed."

Ulaz considered for just a moment.  He couldn't reveal much, not when it would put Allura and the entire Altean nation in danger.  But it didn't matter what he said about Shiro, either - the magic would protect them.  "It's true.  There's an abandoned castle out there.  Magic must keep it hidden.  The beast captured Antok.  I was able to find my way there when he disappeared, and then negotiated for his safe return."

"Then why are you here now?" Sendak demanded.  "Why aren't you the meal of the beast?"

"Why do you assume I was a meal?" Ulaz replied back.  "I was a hostage.  I was freed when I met the terms of our agreement."

Haxus huffed.  "Some beast.  This story gets more ridiculous by the moment.  Clearly he's a traitor too, and he came to save his companion."

Ugh, Ulaz hated when they were right on accident.  

He needed some kind of proof.  Something that would show Shiro's existence without actually causing him any danger.

The weight in his bag gave him an idea.  "If I can prove the beast is real, is there any reason to distrust mine and Antok's word on the manner?" Ulaz asked.

Sendak narrowed his eye, unhappy, but he nodded.  "I'll consider it."

But there were already murmurs from the crowd that said the tide had turned.  And this was for Antok's life.

So Ulaz pulled out the mirror.  "Show me the beast."

It glowed, startlingly bright, then settled on the image of Shiro.  He was heading up the stairs, facing the direction the mirror showed from.  In the image, Ulaz could see how heavy his shoulders looked, how his eyes were dark and far away.

He looked wounded.

Ulaz swallowed hard.  He'd deal with that later.  Right now, this was about Antok's life.

Holding up the mirror, he showed Sendak.  "Here."

In a flash, Sendak snatched the mirror out of Ulaz' grip.  He tried to grab for it, but Haxus stepped forward, shoulder checking him to stop him short.  "That scar," Sendak muttered, eyes narrowed.  "In the castle... the Champion."

Ulaz' stomach dropped.

Oh no.  Oh no.

"You can't get there," Ulaz told him, trying to push past Haxus, but then Sendak tightened his grip on Antok.  "Not with the magic surrounding it.  No one searching for it specifically can.  You can only find it by accident."

Sendak only smiled.  "Maybe.  Unless... What else does this mirror show?  How to find the castle?"

The mirror flashed brightly again, and Sendak's smirk grew.

Oh no.

What had he done?

"This traitor is trying to protect the enemy!" Sendak called, and he held up the mirror to the villagers.  "I recognize this beast.  He's a dangerous fugitive who stole a weapon from the Druids.  And Ulaz is protecting him!  He cannot be trusted, neither of them can!"

"Wait," Ulaz called, but Haxus held up his weapon and he faltered. "No, he's not dangerous.  He can't leave.  The magic-"

"The magic let you out," Sendak shot back.  "It'll let out this beast too.  The Champion has slaughtered dozens, has weapons of which only the Druids fully understand.  He was among the group who dared to strike at our emperor.  He will not be allowed to continue to hide so close to us."

Haxus suddenly looked uncomfortable again.  "Sendak, the border-"

But all he got was a waved hand.  "No one needs to know.  And when we bring the Champion to Prince Lotor and the witch, there will be no one to complain.  We will do this for our safety and for our country!"

The cheers rose in response, raised to a rabid pitch.  Sendak started forward, the mirror still bright in his hands, and the mob formed behind him, heading down to the path.

Haxus kept his weapon trained on Ulaz and Antok, eyes narrowed.  “They can deal with that.  I have no interest in such a quest.  I didn’t believe Sendak at first, but there’s something to the both of you.  I’ll be keeping you close until we can hand you over to the proper authorities.”

Glancing over at the crowd, Ulaz kept his hands up plaintively until the last of them trickled away.  “There’s no need for this, Haxus.”

“I think there is.  I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re both at the center of it.  I’d like to hear what you’ll say to an active commander.”

“We will say nothing that you will hear,” Antok replied calmly.  When Haxus turned to look at him, Antok’s tail twitched, and then he pounced.

Haxus fired, and Antok grunted in pain, but he still collided with him and they both went down in a flurry of limbs.  Ulaz stepped forward to intercede, but it was unnecessary.  Antok was a trained warrior of the Blade of Marmora, and Haxus had always been a back-up to Sendak and never the brute force himself.  Even with a new wound on his side, Antok had Haxus pinned quickly.

“I’ll take care of him,” Antok promised.  “You go call for help.”

He meant call the Blade.

That was the smart thing to do.

Instead, Ulaz was going to do what his instincts had told him to, just as he had the first time around.

“I’m sorry,” he replied.  “I can’t- I can’t let the villagers hurt them.”

Antok’s head whipped up.  “Them?  Ulaz-”  Then he sighed. “Fine.  I’ll call them.  And I’ll make sure Haxus tells no one anything.”  Under him, Haxus squirmed and bucked, but Antok didn’t move.  “The beast....”

“Shiro.”

“Fine, Shiro.  What is he to you?”

Ulaz couldn’t help it.  He smiled.  “I don’t know, but I plan to figure that out.  It won’t be the first time I disobeyed Kolivan for him.”

“Why no- wait, this is the same- oh, nevermind. Go!”

“Thank you,” Ulaz called, chest warm.  “You’re a good friend, Antok.”

Antok rolled his eyes.  “Yes, I am.  Go already.”

Turning, Ulaz ran back out of the city and back the way he came.

This time, Ulaz’ chest didn’t feel too small and cold.  If anything, he felt warm.

This was the right thing to do.

He was going back.

***

It had taken Ulaz until crossing the border to realize he had no idea how he was going to get back to the castle.  The mob was too far ahead to hear, and Ulaz was specifically looking for it.  Without the mirror, he had nothing.

But this was a curse based on love.  Not familial, not friendship, but romantic love specifically.

It hadn’t been enough when Alfor searched for his daughter but that had been the wrong kind.  It was specifically excluded from the spell by Haggar.

Ulaz knew what he was looking for, knew where he needed to go, and he knew the land, at least a little.

So he closed his eyes and thought about the rose.

Then he gave up on that and thought about Shiro.

Opening his eyes, Ulaz started to walk in the direction that felt right.

At first, it didn’t seem to work at all.  He was stumbling through dark-maybe-paths again, unsure of his footing, with no clear idea of where he was.

Then he noticed parts of the snow had footmarks in it, and that some of the bushes were crunched and ripped up.

The footprints were from the mob.

The damage was from Shiro’s fight with the wolves.

He’d crossed the barrier, at least.  Hope hadn’t been enough to get him to the castle, but had let him find familiar footing.

Logic would do the rest.

Following the footprints and his own memories, Ulaz spotted the clearing and the towers rising, and he ran through the gates and to the castle.

It was already chaos.

The doors were wide open, and already villagers were starting to run.

Frankly, Ulaz was tempted to turn tail as well.

Most of the inhabitants were all the small size, but that didn’t matter when they were nearly all trained fighters and the villagers were certainly not.  Ulaz saw several townsfolk limping badly from spade-sized stab sounds in their feet, or sent flying from a clock hitting them at dangerous ramming speeds on the side.

Then of course, there were Allura and Keith.  Keith had gotten his gauntlets on some strange shaped sword, and he was cutting through the mob with dangerous efficiency.  None of the wounds were fatal, likely, but they were more than enough to convince most of the villagers that this was a fight they didn’t want.

And Allura  _ glowed _ with dangerous, crackling power.

“Invade my home again, will you?” She snarled, apparently giving up on keeping herself anonymous.  Not that anyone was paying attention to her words.  Instead they were running in terror of the flashing pink magic.  “No, you will not!”

“Ulaz!”  Lance called.  He gestured to the floor, which was covered in water, slick and growing icy from the dangerously cold winds outside.  Ulaz avoided it carefully and stepped over to Lance, watching with interest as many of the villagers failed to notice the trap and ended up skidding onto their face.  “You came back?”

“Of course,” Ulaz replied, as easy as he could manage.  “Speaking of, where is Shiro?  And Sendak?”

Lance glanced around, frowning darkly.  “I don’t think Shiro ever came down.  Hell, I’m not sure he even know what’s going on.  No one’s really been able to call him down.  Hey, Matt!”

“Yeah?”  It took Ulaz a moment to realize where he was, and then he realized the voice was coming from above.  He looked up and saw Matt industriously working on unscrewing the chandelier.

Frowning, Lance cut a glance sideways at Ulaz.  “You know you don’t have to do that, right?  We’ve kinda got this covered.”

“This thing’s ugly anyway.  Now’s my chance.”

Sighing, Lance shook his head. “Where’s Shiro?”

Matt paused and glanced down.  “Last I checked, he was on his balcony, sulking.  Oh, hey, Ulaz!  Good, maybe he’ll stop now.”

“Balcony,” Ulaz repeated.  “Thank you.”

“No problem.  Go get him.  Be careful, I doubt Sendak’s one of the ones that ran out in terror.”

Nodding, Ulaz ran for the staircase, carefully avoiding where Sam was dousing a villager with boiling hot coffee.  He looked perhaps a bit more gleeful about it than he should have, and Ulaz resolved to be a bit more careful not to bother him in the future.

Once he got far enough away, the noise of the battle deadened to a dangerous quiet.  Ulaz frowned, discomforted that someone could be in the castle and never realize what was going down below.

When he got to the right all, the door to Shiro’s room was already ajar.

Ulaz’ heart sank to his feet.

Stepping forward, he glanced around, trying to find where Shiro - or Sendak - had gone.

The balcony door was open.

The glass case was on the floor, shattered.

The rose was no longer floating, but on the pedestal.  It was in a much sadder state than just a few hours before, the petals shrivelled and several more gone.  It looked like a strong breeze would rip the last few off.

Closing his eyes, Ulaz took a deep breath.

If he still doubted Shiro’s heart, here was the proof that it was broken.

A roar interrupted his thoughts.  It sounded like was from above him, and at first Ulaz made to head back inside and go up the stairs.  But then he realized it sounded like the wind was catching the noise, and a thought occured.

He moved to the edge of the balcony and looked up.

On a portion of the roof above him, Shiro and Sendak battled.

It was a surprisingly even match.  Both were powerful warriors with druidic arms.  Where Sendak had been retired for a time, he certainly hadn’t let himself go physically.  And Shiro had to relearn how to use his body as a beast, but it gave him power he wouldn’t have had with his smaller form.

Narrowing his eyes, Ulaz reached up and began to climb.

When he got close enough, Ulaz could hear Sendak’s words.

“You know what you are, Champion.  We broke you a long time ago.  You ran from where you belong, but you won’t get the chance to try again.  The witch will be upset, but rabid dogs need to be put down.”

Shiro snorted, standing his ground, but Ulaz could see the tremble to his form.  He was weakening.  There didn’t seem to be a wound, but Ulaz doubted he’d slept at all since he was woken from his nightmares earlier, and Sendak’s words seemed to be hitting home.  “Do I look like a dog to you?”

“No, you look like a beast.  A monster.  You finally match the rest of Haggar’s little experiments.”

The reflection of his own words seemed to hit hard.  Shiro jolted, then roared again, diving forward.  But Sendak was prepared for it, and the more his taunting worked, the greater his upper hand.  “You were a fool to let Ulaz go, you know,” he told Shiro, his smirk growing.  “I knew he was a traitor from the start.  But now I think I’ll give him a choice.  He can be my consort or he can be delivered to the Druids.  Which do you think he’ll take?”

Shiro roared again, louder and more furious than before, and this time he managed to score a hit on Sendak before he dodged.  “Don’t talk about him like that!”

“Oh, does the broken toy have feelings for the traitor?  Useless sentiment is what always made you weaker, Champion.  It’s what will kill you now.  And I’ll take your pelt to Lotor for him to wear as a cape in exchange for my command back.  And I’ll have Ulaz’ head or his body, one or the other.”

With that, Sendak struck again, just as Shiro tried to swipe with his metal paw.  Sendak caught it in his own hand and threw Shiro, sending him skidding across the rooftop.  He neared the edge, and Ulaz’ breath caught.

Then Shiro fell.

White and silver claws flashed out, digging into the edge, just barely saving him from a terribly long fall.  Sendak walked over calmly, knowing full well that Shiro’s scrambling wasn’t getting him anywhere.  Picking him up by the throat, Sendak activated his arm and Shiro screamed - a human scream, a noise of pure pain and suffering - then went limp. 

“Very familiar,” Sendak commented.  “Once again, you let yourself fall.  And you’ll die knowing it was because you were a fool.”  He squeezed his hand, and Ulaz heard something crunch.

This was quite enough.

Darting out from the shadows, Ulaz ducked between them.  He used his not insignificant bulk to pull Shiro’s limp form back.  He was heavy, but he moved the necessary space to fall onto the roof instead of falling to his death.

Then Ulaz twisted and kicked Sendak firmly in the chest.

Surprised as he was, he had no defense for the move.  And because he’d been dangling Shiro, he was right on the edge himself.

Sendak fell.

His screams faded into the whipping winds.

Good riddance.

Ulaz glanced down, checking carefully to make sure that Sendak hadn’t latched onto any jutting out decorations or fallen onto any convenient platforms.  When he was sure he’d fallen to the snowy ground before, he turned to Shiro.

Who hadn’t moved where he’d collapsed.

It just now occurred to Ulaz that he couldn’t see Shiro’s breathing.

Moving over in a flash, Ulaz rolled Shiro over onto his back instead.  There was still no sign of movement, and when Ulaz put his palm in front of the scarred muzzle, he felt nothing.

No.  Oh no.  No, not now.  

He should have gotten there sooner, should have revealed himself rather than let Sendak continue to throw him around.

“I’m sorry,” Ulaz murmured.  “I’m sorry I was too late.  Oh, Shiro, you-”  He died thinking that Ulaz had left him, had died with the rose a shrivelled, fallen mess, had died believing that Ulaz hated him.  There were greater implications lurking, questions about what would happen with the curse and to the others, but as much as he cared for them and the future fights they could be part of, it all felt greyed out.

Shock, he thought.  This was what shock felt like.

Or just what it felt like to lose someone he loved.

Oh god.  Ulaz loved him.  After all this, just now, Ulaz realized he loved him.  Letting out a choked chuckle, he buried his face in Shiro’s mane.  “Impulsive except for here,” he murmured.  “Here I wait too long.  Here I don’t realize in time.  I should have known that I love you.  I should have been able to help you.”   

Leaning down, Ulaz pressed a kiss to Shiro’s forehead, tears squeezing past his tightly shut eyelids.

Below him, something glowed.

Pulling back, Ulaz saw crackling purple magic.  It closed around Shiro like a clenching fist, like greedy fingers holding onto a prize.  But Shiro had a glow too, pink and white.  It burst through the fingers, making them crumple into dust and fade away, as Shiro started to rise up like gravity no longer touched him.

There was a flash and a shift, so bright and intense that Ulaz had to look away or go blind.

When he looked back, it wasn’t a beast floating, but a human.

The glow faded, and Shiro hung for a moment, then fell.

Darting forward, Ulaz caught him easily.  In this form, Shiro slotted easily into his arm, a much more manageable weight, and his head rested against the crook of Ulaz’ neck.

For one heart stopping moment, Ulaz thought Shiro was still dead, just a human body instead of an animal. 

Then he stirred, and those grey eyes cracked open.  “Wha- Ulaz?”  It was Shiro’s voice, still, but changed slightly with his size.  He sounded like the man Ulaz had met with the Druids again.  “You came back.  I thought-”

“You were wrong in several things, but most of all, in thinking you were unlovable,” Ulaz told him.  “We can discuss the others later.  For now, that is the truth that matters.  Can you stand?”

Shiro tilted his head back to stare at him, looking utterly baffled.  But he nodded, and when Ulaz set him down, he remained upright, though he stayed in Ulaz’ space.  “Is Antok alright?”

Unable to help it, Ulaz cracked a smile.  “He is, yes.  Wounded but fine.  Shouldn’t you ask after yourself?”

“I’m breathing.  Everything else comes later.”  Shiro smiled at him - up at him, actually.  Ulaz was used to it, but not from such a form.  Compared to the beastial proportions, Shiro felt deceptively fragile in Ulaz’ hands.

Or maybe that was just the knowledge that he’d nearly lost him.

“One thing could come now,” Ulaz offered.  “I believe after someone confesses their love, it is customary to exchange a kiss, assuming the feelings are returned.”

“Is it?” Shiro asked, suddenly coy.  “Show me.”

Ulaz did just as the sun began to rise.

Below them on the grounds, as the wind died down, Ulaz could hear shouts.  It wasn’t the villagers any longer, but human voices, cheering and celebrating.

They had a lot of answering to do.

But first, another kiss.

***

_ “And they lived happily ever after.” _

Matt leaned back with a smile, surveying the damage.  Pidge was near covered in a small avalanche of pillows and blankets.  He would question that she was asleep, except that she was quiet.  One usually meant the other.

Shiro was propped up on his pillows, his face flush and nose red.  But he looked peaceful now, rather than the misery he’d projected when Matt decided to tell him a bedtime story.

One hundred percent success rate.

Another useful and wonderful creation by Matthew Holt.

Standing up, Matt stretched comfortably, then headed for the door.  Just as he turned out the lights, there was a quiet murmur.  “Matt?  You done?”

“Yeah, buddy, I finished up.”

“Mm, fell asleep.  Sorry.”

Matt rolled his eyes.  Apparently Shiro hadn’t figured out that you were  _ supposed _ to sleep to a bedtime story.  “S’alright.  I”ll tell it to you some other time.”

Giving a contented noise, Shiro turned over.  “M’kay.  Night.”

“Good night, Sweet Prince,” Matt replied back, smirking.

Shiro raised a loose hand to flip him the bird, then let it go limp, thumping on the bed.

Matt was still chuckling when he closed the door behind him.

Mission success.

Hmm.  Next time he’d do Snow White.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed? You can find more at [my tumblr](bosstoaster.tumblr.com/).


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